


Kinktober 2020 Collection

by Tommykaine



Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Challenge Response, Ficlet Collection, I did not complete all the kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Multi, Please refer to each individual chapter for specific tags for that chapter, as this is a collection of stories more than a multichapter story, copying and reposting this work elsewhere without my permission is strictly forbidden!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26821453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommykaine/pseuds/Tommykaine
Summary: A collection of smutty ficlets/drabbles/scenes based on LustyArgonianMaid's Kinktober prompts! Some of them might later on be turned into more fleshed-out works. Most of these will be original stories.---IMPORTANT NOTE: Specific tags for each fic will be listed in the author's note at the start of the "chapter", while the tags I put as the main tags of this work will reflect those for the latest posted fic, with the exception of the main Archive Warnings that will always be present if one or more works in the collection include those warnings.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134941
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	1. Day #1 - Pegging

**Author's Note:**

> This first story contains: Pegging, Femdom, Yandere, Female-on-Male Rape, Implied/Referenced Rape/Noncon, Teacher-Student relationship, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Non-Consensual Bondage
> 
> The pairing is: F/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "pegging"

Michael tried to struggle against his restraints, but it was all in vain. Evelyn had made sure he could not move at all, his legs spread open and his knees tied to his torso, his ankles attached to the base of his thighs so that he could not even try to kick her off while his hands were tied up above his head.

He was still wearing his shirt and his tie, but everything under his belt had been taken off – belt also included.

The intricate ropework on his body was something he was very familiar with. He’d been the one to introduce Evelyn to it. Of course, he had no idea she would study up on it on her own and use it against him. Then again, she’d always been one of his brightest students.

“Evelyn, please,” he whispered, turning his head from one side to the other, trying to locate her. He had been blindfolded, so he could only focus on his hearing.

“You’re such a fool, professor,” she said, her voice vibrating in anger. She was somewhere in front of his bed. “You really thought you could just use me until you grew tired of me? That you could seduce your own student, take advantage of her, and discard her once she became an inconvenience?”

“Evelyn, I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you-”

“LIAR!” she shouted, sprinting towards him and climbing above his tied-up body, slapping him across the face. The loud smacking sound echoed in the silence of the room, and it stung enough to numb the side of his face for a few moments, before the pain started to blossom underneath his skin.

“All this time… all this time you’ve been telling me how I was special to you, how you only loved me, when you were having an affair with another woman!”

“Evelyn,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I lead you to think otherwise, but the truth is, I was having an affair with _you_ ,” he began to explain. “I’ve been engaged with Emily for over five years. I had a moment of weakness, things were not going well and… yes, it’s true I told you those things. I believed them, too… or I thought I did. But deep down I knew it could not continue.”

He could not see her face, so he couldn’t know how she was taking it. She had yet to say a single word since he started talking.

“You should have known it, too. You’re smart enough to understand,” he continued. “What could someone of your age have in common with someone like me? How could we possibly build something together? I’m sorry but… I had to be the bigger person. I had to do what’s right for Emily. So please, be reasonable, even if you have the right to be angry, I don’t know what you’re planning but whatever it is, it can’t be worth doing something you’d regret forever.”

He quietened and waited, pricking up his ears. After a while, he started hearing what he thought was a quiet sobbing, until it grew louder and louder and he realized she was actually _laughing_.

She walked up to him, he could hear her footsteps coming closer. Then, the creaking of the bed as she climbed up on it, the mattress shifting and her body weighing on his stomach as she sat on him.

The light pierced his eyes like a blade when she finally ripped the blindfold off of his face, staring down at him with a devious grin on her face.

“You’ve turned me into your slave with your cock,” she told him, and he could see the sparkle in her light blue, almost violet eyes. There was something… deranged about it. “It’s about time we find out if it works the other way around, too”.

Her hand went down to her crotch, catching his attention. When he lowered his eyes, they grew wide with horror as he saw the huge strap-on dildo she was wearing. It was almost as thick as her arm.

“No… no, Evelyn, you can’t-”

“Don’t worry. After all, you said it best yourself…” she told him, taking out a roll of tape and slapping a piece of it on his mouth to shut him up while he kept trying to beg for mercy. “It only hurts at first, but when a bitch learns to love it, she won’t be able to live without the pleasure.”


	2. Day #2 - Daddy kink/Dirty Talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This second story contains: Daddy Kink, Age Gap, Dirty Talk, Implied/Referenced Rape/Noncon, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Incest Undertones, Internalized Homophobia
> 
> The pairing is: M/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+ despite the wording used by Lawrence, who is just nasty.
> 
> The prompt I chose to use for this was a combo of "dirty talk" and "daddy kink"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is based on one I published on a site-that-can-not-be-named, called Virgin's Sacrifice. This is basically a portion of an alternate POV of that story. I might expand on it and make it into a full version at some point. Lawrence is a nasty, nasty man and it was interesting to write the scenes from his POV.

He’d picked him up at the usual spot he chose for those meetups. A sweet young thing, acting shy despite the fact that he was dressed like a slut and that he’d been the one to hit him up on the app. Going on about how thirsty he was for his big cock, sending him ass and dick pics and calling him ‘daddy’ all on his own.

Not that Lawrence hated shy boys, in fact it was kind of hot. As long as he didn’t bail on him, he didn’t mind at all.

The longer he had him in his car, the more he wanted to eat him up. If he weren’t worried of being caught, he’d just have driven somewhere far and secluded and then he would have fucked him in the back of his car. He’d already gotten stopped by the police before, though thankfully he’d managed to talk his way out of it.

The last thing he wanted was for his wife to find out about his escapades. He’d told he’d be working late to finish a job, sleeping over at his shop. She didn’t know he was out there fucking some guy young enough to be his kid. No doubt she’d take Dave away from him if she knew he was a fag.

Kids those days, they had it easier. Back when he was as young as the brat in his car, his dad would have bashed his head open if he found out he’d snuck out to get fucked by some guy. So, he’d gotten married and knocked up his wife before he even managed to suck on his first cock. Now you could use your damn phone to find other guys who were into that sort of thing without anyone knowing, and the best thing was a lot of them also preferred to keep it on the down low.

Lawrence tried to hold back until they got to the hotel, but in the end he just had to at least get a kiss before they got in. The poor thing was so rigid, it was clear he was real fucking nervous. Probably scared about being seen, though he did kiss him back eventually.

It was weird. They way he acted, it was almost as if he was a different person than the one who wrote him on the app. You’d almost think he was a damn virgin.

By the time they got to the room, Lawrence had his hands all over him. The little bitch acted coy, but he had the body of a slut. Playing with his nipples got him hard in no time, and even if the other hadn’t made it clear while chatting on the app, it wouldn’t have taken long for Lawrence to find out that he was a perverted masochist. Plus, he was clearly pent up since a handjob was all it took to make him cum.

When they got on the bed, Lawrence couldn’t help but feel quite proud at the reaction his cock got out of the teen. He’d told him his size, he even sent him pictures, but he knew seeing it in person was different.

Preparing him for it had been quite a pain. That was the trouble with less experienced bottoms, he guessed, even if the brat had assured him he’d been fucked plenty of times before and he needed something thick and long to be satisfied. He probably had been balling ‘cause he was scared he wouldn’t bother with him if he thought he couldn’t take it. Well, luckily for him, Lawrence didn’t care. It wasn’t his ass that was gonna be sore, so if the bitch wanted to get his hole smashed without being ready for it, it wasn’t his problem.

Then, just when it looked like it was working out, after he’d done his best to prepare him properly, the fucking bitch had the nerve to try and bail as soon as he got the tip in.

“Sorry kid but it's too late to get cold feet now. You knew what you were getting into. You told me you couldn’t wait for it. It’s not fair to tease a grown-ass man and then try to chicken out.”

“N-no, wait, I-”

Lawrence hadn’t cared. He would get his cock in whether that teasing slut liked it or not. It was gonna be a good lesson for him, next time he’d think twice before acting all slutty and making some poor sod thing he was all ready for it only to change his mind at the last second.

“Come on, come on you little slut, open up for daddy,”

The more he fucked him, the easier it got, though he was so goddamn tight… Lawrence had almost forgotten how good it felt to fuck such a young guy. Usually he got snobbed by anyone under thirty-five because he was "too old".

When he heard him moan in pleasure again, he started to stroke his dick as he fucked, feeling pretty damn pleased with himself. All that whining, and now he was going back to moaning like a slut. Fucking brat.

“I knew you’d love it, bet you’ve never been properly fucked before.”

He’d fucked him harder and harder, hoping that he could make him cum first. It was gonna be hard to hold back with such a deliciously tight ass, but he really wanted to make him cum with his cock.

“Are you gonna cum from daddy’s cock?” he’d asked him, leaning in to kiss him as his movements sped up. The bitch was loving it so much he was crying, and Lawrence couldn’t hold back from licking the tears off of his face, showering him with words of praise “Ooh, you’re such a good boy, look at how hard you got for daddy, you’re daddy’s little slut, aren’t you? Don’t you love daddy’s big cock, huh? Come on, tell me that you love it.”

He insisted until the bitch admitted it, and then he rewarded him by fucking him even faster.

“Are you going to cum for daddy?” he’d asked him, feeling his own climax building up. “Come on, show me your slutty face as my big, hard cock makes you cum.”

He didn’t relent, he was incredibly turned on, and that damn slut had a body that felt as if it was made to be fucked.

“Tell me how much you want it! Do you want it harder? Say it, ‘harder, daddy’!”

“Harder… daddy.”

“Good boy.”

When the bitch finally came, he screamed like a slaughtered beast, his whole body shaking as he came so hard it went all the way up to his chest.

Lawrence had stroked his cock until every last drop was spilled, spreading his precum all over his cute little cock before bringing his fingers against the boy’s mouth, making him clean them with his tongue. Somehow, that triggered the bitch who started to sob and tried to hide his face with his hands.

Though he did not understand it, Lawrence felt a rush of pity and sympathy for the boy. There was something about him that made him feel some kind of way towards him.

Shh, shh, it’s alright, daddy’s got you,” he cooed against his ear in his softest voice, stroking his soft hair and holding him tightly. He even slowed down, though he did not stop fucking him. “You’ve been a good boy, Dave.”

The name slipped out of his lips before he could stop himself. He was too distracted as his own climax was building up too, and soon enough he was blabbering semi-incoherent rambles as his orgasm drew nearer and nearer.

“Fuck, ooh, fuck, I'm gonna cum.”

The other’s voice and tear-stricken face had fused with his mental image of his sweet little Dave, his precious little boy, who would never do something so dirty, so obscene, who would never have moaned like that with his cock in his tight little ass.

Yes, Dave was nothing like that slut, so he didn’t have to feel bad.

Only a dirty kid would willingly follow a strange old man in a motel to get fucked.


	3. Day #3 - Mind Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This third story contains: Implied/Referenced Rape/Noncon, Mind Control, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Orgasm Denial, NTR
> 
> The pairing is: F/F
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "Mind Control"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short story set in the same universe as my "At Her Cummand" series, which is also published on the site-that-shall-not-be-named.

Emma was really enjoying her newfound power.

Before, the thought of interacting with her bitchy, homophobic neighbor was enough to ruin a good part of her day.

It was still an annoyance, of course, to hear Karen yapping about how she was going to hell and so would all of her lesbian friends (and the bisexual ones, most likely, as she imagined they were not usually included in Karen’s rants simply because she could not fathom the concept of bisexuality in the first place).

The difference was, now she had to hold back a smirk as she let her go on her tangent for a good five minutes, until she finally got tired of it and pulled out her phone.

“I see, I see… by the way, what do you think of _this_?”

The image captured her attention first, her green eyes widening in stupor, but it was after Emma recited the usual formula that she stared back at her with a vacant, glassy stare.

“You haven’t been nice to me, you know. Doesn’t your God say you should love your neighbor, ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you’ and all that jazz? ‘Cause you’re not acting very loving.”

Grasping on Karen’s wrist, she’d pulled her away from the entrance and dragged her all the way to her own apartment. Sadly they didn’t have much time, but Emma had been unable to resist. Sometimes she felt as if the other woman provoked her on purpose.

“Take off your panties and give them to me,” she ordered, watching as the hypnotized housewife obediently took off a pair of silky white knickers and placed them onto her hand.

“What’s this, were you planning to get fucked by your husband when he comes back home?” Emma asked, dangling them in front of her face.

“Yes,” Karen promptly answer in an expressionless tone.

“What a joke. You know very well he can’t satisfy you.” Tossing them aside, Emma slid her hand under Karen’s skirt and found her pussy, smirking as she felt the wetness that was already collecting in her folds. The suggestion she’d given her, of how she’d always get wet whenever she saw her and talked to her, was clearly still in effect.

“The truth is, the only one who’s ever made you cum is me, isn’t it?” she asked, easily sliding two of her fingers inside her and feeling her open up for her.

“Y-yes.”

Emma smirked, curling up her fingers and sliding them back and forth inside of Karen, teasing her g-spot, until the woman in front of her was panting and gasping as her love juices flowed down copiously.

“You can get fucked by that guy all you want, but you still won’t be satisfied. The truth is, your body has been craving my touch all along.”

Moving her fingers faster, she grasped on Karen’s blonde curls and kissed her, snuffing her moans with her own mouth. Once she pulled back, she saw that her face was red and her whole body was trembling, as if she was already about to cum.

“Wow, you’re really pent up, huh? You really want to cum, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Karen whispered, her arousal clearly audible in her voice over her usual monotone.

“Well then…” Emma suddenly pulled out her fingers, licking them off as he stared into Karen’s eyes. “That’s too bad, you won’t be cumming today either. Serves you right for being such a bitch.”

She laughed in her face, grasping on her chin and leaning in closer to whisper against her lips.

“We’ll see how generous I feel tomorrow. Now, fuck off and get back home, your husband will be upset if his dinner is late”, she told her, letting go of her before squatting and picking up her panties. “I’ll be keeping these. Goodbye.”

And, as she watched the other woman leave, her hand was already moving down to touch herself, thinking of how frustrated that annoying bitch was going to be. She couldn’t wait to tease her again, the next day.

That power was just too convenient.


	4. Day #4 - Somnophilia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fourth story contains: Rape/Noncon, Implied/Referenced Past Rape/Noncon, Father-Son Incest, Daddy Kink (like that type of talk), Sleep Sex, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Unreliable Narrator
> 
> The pairing is: M/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "Somnophilia"

Jonathan sat at the edge of the bed, watching over his son’s sleeping form. His hand went down to caress his hair, and he smiled down at him as he felt him lean into his touch.

“It’s okay, Eric” he whispered. “Daddy’s here for you.”

He glanced at the clock. It had been almost an hour already. Surely by then it should have kicked in, right?

He’d been impatient before. He almost ruined everything.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he leaned in and kissed his sweet boy. His lips were so soft, but the stubble on his chin reminded Jonathan that he too was a man, an adult. Soon enough he’d want to leave him too, he knew it, as much as it made his heart ache he knew there would come a time when he’d have to say goodbye to Eric.

That was why, while he could still be with him, he couldn’t waste his chances.

“Your daddy will love you forever,” he murmured as he slowly, carefully pulled down his sheets to reveal his body. Lean and muscular, without much hair except on his stomach and legs. He always slept in just his underwear. Such a tease. How could Jonathan possibly resist him? The boy had no idea of how charming he was, how much he drove him crazy with desire.

If he were a beast, he would have forced himself on him years before. But he loved his son, he would never want to hurt him. It was just… maybe he loved him too much.

His hand went down to caress his chest, lightly groping his developing pecs and pressing his rough palms against his nipples until he felt them grow hard. He heard a soft sigh leave his son’s lips, a sound which seemed to reverberate all the way to Jonathan’s cock, which twitched and started to grow hard in his pants.

“Your body is so damn sensitive… are you trying to seduce me? Could it be, you want it too?”

Of course, he knew that was not true, but a part of him couldn’t help but feed into that hope, that delusion.

As he slipped his hand inside his son’s boxers, he leaned down to lick and suck on one of his nipples while he started to play with his cock. He could feel him grow hard in no time, and he smirked. He’d learned all the right spots, he knew every inch of his son’s body, so he knew just what to do.

“Come on, baby, show your daddy how much you love him,” he told him, then he lightly bit on his nipple while his thumb teased the lower edge of his glans, making him cry out softly. He could feel a few drops of precum spill out, and he spread them all over the tip of his cock, rubbing it with his palm while he teased his length with his fingers. He could feel him shaking as he kept on teasing him like that, while his mouth moved lower to leave a trail of kisses on his belly.

“Come on, baby…”

He pulled his cock out of his boxers, licking his lips as he stared down at it for a few moments, taking in the sight. It had grown so much, and it was surrounded by coarse dark hairs. One day, maybe, he should have told him about how it was best to keep those parts trimmed, especially if one wanted to impress their partner. But he had not yet found a way to breach the subject in a manner that would not inspire suspicion. Besides, it was not like he minded the sight. His son was beautiful and perfect just the way he was.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, gently kissing the tip of his cock before taking most of the length into his mouth. He felt and heard him shudder and gasp, his hand moving down by instinct and ending up almost on Jonathan’s head. The man took it and placed it on top of his hair, pretending as if the younger man was encouraging him to take even more, sucking and licking on his cock as if it was a delicious treat while he caressed and gently fondled his balls.

He listened to his son’s moans like it was the most beautiful of melodies, feeling his own cock straining against the fabric of his pants, but he wasn’t going to touch it, not yet. All he wanted to focus on was his son’s pleasure, all he wanted was for him to feel his love for him.

He felt his heart swell as he noticed the way Eric’s hand grasped on his hair, even if he knew it was just an unconscious reflex. He kept on pleasuring him with his mouth and his hands, as best as he could, until finally Eric’s body spasmed and his hips rose as if to thrust himself deeper in his father’s throat, crying out loud as he came inside his mouth. Of course, Jonathan drank it all, waiting until every last drop had been spilled before pulling back and watching as his son’s adorable cock flopped down, shrinking down as it softened.

“I hope you’re having some sweet dreams, my love,” he told him as he pushed his cock back inside his boxers and lifted the sheets again, covering him up and gently stroking his cheek, letting his thumb linger against his lips. “

Deep down, Jonathan knew that it was wrong, even if he wasn’t pleasuring himself, even if he was making him feel good.

Still, if Eric didn’t know, it couldn’t be too bad, could it? If he just never found out, he wouldn’t have to be hurt by it… so in the end it was okay, wasn’t it?

And he had tried to stop but… it couldn’t be helped. He was too weak. After all, as long as he put him to sleep, he could touch him all he wanted and Eric wouldn’t ever even know. And he would never do anything that would hurt him, he was just making him feel good, so in the end what was the harm?

“That’s right, I just love you too much,” he said, and he smiled again before he got up and walked back to his room. He could not quite take care of himself in his son’s room, after all. That would be just wrong.


	5. Day #5 - Corruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fifth story contains: Non-consensual sex (drugged sex), Recreational Drug Use, Corruption. Sadism, Implied/Reference Violence Against Animals, Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Homophobia
> 
> The pairing is: M/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "Corruption"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This uses characters from my [Portrait of a Serial Killer](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697614) series, specifically the character of Sam appeared in A Boy and His Dog.
> 
> This is a lot longer than the other pieces because I am clearly incapable to write about Gabriel (Ernest) and be brief about it OTL

Ernest and Sam were the first to get there. As usual, Frankie was late.

Ernest didn’t mind too much. They had beers and cigarettes, they could start without him.

“Move your fat ass already,” he told Sam, nudging his butt with his foot as the shorter boy climbed through the window.

“Fuck you,” Sam replied once he’d gotten inside, glaring at him for a moment but quickly looking away when Ernest stared right back at him until Sam lowered his gaze to the ground.

Ernest smirked. _Good boy._ He followed him through the broken window, the glass creaking under their shoes. They walked through the corridor until they reached the main room, where Sam let himself fall on the old worn-out sofa.

Ernest put his backpack on the coffee table and took out a pack of candles, adding it to their stash in the corner of the room before sitting down next to Sam and stretching out his long legs, resting his shoes on the table.

“This shit feels almost as soft as your ass,” he teased Sam, poking him in the side.

“Why are you so obsessed with my ass? You gay or something?” Sam replied, clearly trying to offend him. They were at that age where ‘gay’ or ‘faggot’ or any other variant was the worst thing you could get accused of being.

Ernest, however, did not feel offended. Instead, he just shrugged and grinned like the cat that ate the canary.

“It’s just so big, it’s hard to ignore,” he retorted, enjoying the way Sam’s face turned red.

“Fuck you,” was all he retorted, crossing his arms and looking away.

“I’m just messing with you.” Ernest took out his packet of cigarettes and offered one to Sam. “Come on, don’t be a bitch.” He poked him in the face with it until the other boy begrudgingly snatched it from him and waited for him to light his own cigarette and lend him his lighter so that he could do the same.

He could not resist teasing Sam. He knew his weight was a sensitive issue for him, despite the fact that he’d lost quite a bit of it over the years. Ernest still remembered when he was a short fat kid, always tailing behind him because no one else wanted to be his friend. Now he was a chubby boy, still much shorter than him but that was a given. At over six feet and five inches of height, Ernest towered over almost every other boy at school.

Sam was quite average in height, with bright blue eyes and light brown hair. His face had changed quite a bit over the years, losing a lot of its childishness. He actually had a rather well-proportioned face, with high cheekbones and a nice jawline. He probably could have charmed quite a few girls, had he been more confident and charismatic. Unfortunately, he himself did not realize that anyone could ever find him attractive.

Ernest had made sure of that.

They were just cracking open a few beers when Frankie finally showed his face.

“Hey Sam. ‘Sup Ernie.”

“Hi Frankie!”

“Don’t call me that. It’s Ernest.”

Frankie shrugged, placing his stereo on the coffee table and tinkering with it to put on some music.

“Sam calls you that.”

“Well, you’re not Sam.”

Frankie snorted, but he didn’t object too much. Glancing at Sam, Ernest could see that he was smiling a little.

He smiled at him too.

_There you go, thinking you’re special. You pitiful little thing._

It was so easy to read him. So easy to keep him attached, like a desperate little dog. Had they been younger, Ernest would have pet him like one. Maybe Sam would have still liked it, actually, but not when another guy was there.

Ernest knew the dynamic there. Frankie was the new friend, still low on the social ranking but not quite as low as Sam. So he did not want to lose face in front of him, and at the same time he was jealous that Ernest might decide he liked to be Frankie’s friend more than he liked being his. Something Ernest had known very well ever since he started to talk to Frankie and roped him into joining their little group of outcasts. A part of it was simply because hanging around Sam could get tiresome, but another part was because, as long as Frankie was there, Sam was a lot less likely to say no to things in fear of seeming ‘lame’ and ‘uncool’.

And, of course, there was the fact that Frankie knew how to get his hands on some really interesting shit.

“Say, you got some pot?”

Frankie grinned at him.

“I got something better.”

Ernest did not miss the way Sam tensed up for a moment. He still remembered the first time he got him to try pot, the priceless expression on his face as his fear of doing something illegal and of getting his mom pissed collided with his fear of losing face in front of his friends. Ernest wasn’t sure of what Frankie meant with ‘something better’ but he was sure Sam was already pissing his pants at the mere thought.

So, of course, he grinned back and slapped Sam’s shoulder.

“Sounds awesome. Right, Sam?”

“I… guess so.” Oh, he was so delightfully nervous already. This was going to be good.

“Just let me- this fucking thing! Come on!” Frankie hit the stereo with his hand a few times until, suddenly, loud music started blaring from the speakers. “There we go! Now we’re talking!”

Rather than sitting down with them, he crouched in front of the sofa and started to rummage in his pockets until he found a plastic bag, which he pulled out and dangled in front of them. Ernest could see some brownish lumps in it.

“Looks like nuts,” he noted, wondering if their friend had gotten scammed.

Frankie snorted again.

“It’s truffles. Magic truffles.” He opened the bag and took out a handful, then reached out to Sam. “Here, take it. You gotta chew well before swallowing. Ah, it’s gonna taste like shit. But it’s gonna make you fly, man. You might even get visions and shit.”

Sam hesitated, glancing at Ernest with an almost pleading look, as if begging him to get him out of that situation. When neither he nor Frankie said anything, he sighed and shoved the truffles in in his mouth, chewing with an almost pained look in his face.

“Yeah, chew well. Here, have some water, wash off the taste,” Frankie told him, picking up a plastic bottle laying nearby and handing it to Sam. He then took out more truffles and handed them to Ernest before taking a handful for himself.

Ernest took one in his mouth, chewing slowly and noting the taste. Unpleasant, as expected. As the other two were distracted, he had no difficulty stashing the rest between the cushions of the sofa with the countless crumbs of chips and cigarette butts and Hell-knew-what-else hiding in there. As if he’d take some random weird drug without first seeing what it did. He was not an idiot.

Speaking of idiots, Ernest glanced at the plastic bag, then at Sam.

“You should take more.”

“What?! No.”

“You’re too fat. This much won’t even do anything. Right, Frankie?”

Frankie scratched his head, looking thoughtful.

“I mean… yeah, maybe. Usually with drugs you’d need more if you’re fatter. No offense.”

Sam glared at Ernest, but he already looked defeated. With a sigh, he stretched out his hand and waited for Frankie to put more of the offending things in it.

“Don’t be shy. He’s a big boy, he can take it,” Ernest egged him on, patting Sam on his shoulder again. He smirked as he saw him eat them as fast as he could, still grimacing as if he was eating shit.

“Do you want some chocolates?” he teased him, earning a faint "fuck off" in response.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

As expected, Sam was the first one to start acting weird, slumping on the sofa and rubbing his arm against the armrest, murmuring something to himself. Still, it took almost an hour for it to kick in. They’d been playing cards and chatting up until that point.

“You feeling it, Sam?” Frankie asked, sounding amused. “Sam?”

“Huh?” Sam turned to look at him, as if he just saw him for the first time. “Yeah?” He was smiling like an idiot.

“Oh, he’s gone,” Ernest said, running his fingers through Sam’s hair, who closed his eyes and hummed to himself, leaning into the touch. “You seeing things yet?”

“Hmm… I see… colors,” he replied, then opened his eyes and turned to look at the radio. “I see them… in the music. It sounds like colors.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Ernest said, laughing and lightly patting his cheek. Sam seemed confused, but he smiled and closed his eyes again. “You feeling it?” he then asked to Frankie.

“A little, yeah. It’s like, shit’s so fucking slow.”

Ernest hummed to himself, glancing back to Sam. Helpless little Sam, high as a kite. Probably too fucked up to even be fully aware of his surroundings.

He could feel a familiar stirring in his groin. Had he been alone with him, he knew what he would have done. A shame, but then again…

He glanced at Frankie and titled his head as he lazily petted Sam’s hair. He wondered just how much would it take to push him and convince him to help out with his little plan.

“Hey, I nicked a new porn mag from pop’s stash. Wanna see it?”

Frankie had been busy fishing in his pockets for a cigarette and lighting it, nearly dropping the lighter when Ernest spoke.

“Yeah, sure.”

“It’s in my backpack.”

Ernest got up, helping Sam lie down on the sofa. He seemed to be enjoying himself. _Clueless little thing_. Ernest almost laughed again. He was so hard. Thankfully, it didn’t seem Frankie noticed.

Taking out the magazine in question, Ernest went to sit on the coffee table, waiting for Frankie to do the same. He ignored the way the wood creaked slightly from their combined weight, handing over the magazine to the other boy, who immediately started browsing through it. Ernest pretended to be interested in it as well, but truth to be told, he didn’t feel anything as he looked at those women with melon-sized tits getting pounded or sucking on some semi-disembodied cock.

_You gay or something?_

Ernest wouldn’t know. He’d tried looking at some gay mag and it didn’t do much for him either. The only times he really felt something were whenever he’d bullied Sam to tears, or when he’d killed some helpless beast, like the dog he’d killed in front of him many years before. He still masturbated furiously to the memory from time to time. He guessed what really got him off was feeling powerful and seeing others in pain. Particularly Sam, but he didn’t know if that was because he was a boy or because he was so pathetic and fun to mess with.

_Maybe I should try to mess around with a girl._

But the thing was, he wasn’t used to dealing with girls. They seemed so troublesome and annoying. Their voices also, they were too high pitched and annoying. He didn’t think he’d get off to the wailing of a girl. Probably would just get on his nerves. Plus, getting violent with a girl was a risk. A boy didn’t like to talk about how he got his ass kicked by another guy, much less anything worse.

He was so assorted in his musings, he didn’t notice that Frankie was jerking off until he heard him grunt and turned to see him holding his cock in his hand. He stole a glance, noting that it was about his same size, shorter but a bit thicker.

Since Frankie was doing it, Ernest also unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out, leisurely touching himself.

“You like big tits, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Slowly, Ernest got up from the table and walked up to the sofa, glancing down at the placid figure of Sam, still humming to himself as he seemed to be focused on the music.

“You know who’s got tits?” he asked Frankie, and when he saw him glance up from the magazine he pulled up Sam’s shirt and grasped on his chest, groping the small mounds of fats. He was surprised when Sam moaned quite loudly, probably because he was brushing his nipples. He could feel then grow harder against his fingers. He wondered if the drugs had made him more sensitive.

“What the fuck?” Frankie asked, laughing. “Cut that shit out.”

“It’s true though. Looks like they’re sensitive too.” He pinched on Sam’s nipples, causing him to cry out even louder.

Frankie turned red and went back to looking at the magazine. Still, Ernest could see him glance back towards the sofa from time to time.

_Perfect._

“Don’t you think he’s got kind of a cute face? I mean, if you didn’t know he had a dick, he could be a girl, right?” Ernest actually didn’t think that was the case at all, but judging from Frankie’s reaction his words weren’t leaving him indifferent.

“Yeah, I guess…”

Ernest grinned, pulling Sam’s shirt off of him. The boy grumbled a bit, but he stroked his hair and rubbed his fingers against the shell of his ear, while playing with one of his nipples again, until Sam grasped on his hand and whimpered, but didn’t protest.

“What… what are you doing?” Frankie asked, sounding more intimidated than alarmed. Ernest could still see his hand moving along his cock.

“You think he’d suck me off?” Earnest asked, moving in close enough to rub his length against Sam’s soft cheek. He was so high he didn’t even seem to notice, especially since he was still petting his hair.

Frankie was clearly at a loss of words. He looked like he wanted to say something, maybe stop him, but he didn’t dare to make a sound. So, taking it as a silent encouragement, Ernest forced Sam to turn his head until his cock was pressed against his mouth, then pushed and rubbed himself against it until it finally slipped past his lips, groaning in pleasure.

“Don’t you fucking bite, or I’ll break your fucking neck,” he growled, low enough for only Sam to hear. If he even could hear him in that state. Either way, it didn’t seem like he was intentioned to bite, so Ernest started shoving more of his cock inside his mouth, thrusting his hips back and forth.

“Ah, yes,” Ernest almost purred, stroking on his friend’s hair again. “Good job, that’s a good slut…”

Turning to look at Frankie, he could see a mixture of horror and confusion on his face. He could tell he wasn’t going to stop him, but that wasn’t good enough.

He needed to know he wouldn’t get the idea to run off and tell someone else what he just did. He needed him to have a good reason to keep his mouth shut.

And he had just the perfect idea.

“Feels good, you know,” he told him, looking straight into his eyes as he fucked Sam’s mouth, pushing his length past his throat. He felt his grasp tighten on his wrist and heard some muffled groaning, probably to complain, but it only got him harder. That little shit couldn’t do anything to stop him, he could just take his cock and choke on it. “Better than pussy.”

Frankie snorted loudly, finally looking away.

“How would you know that?”

“Cuz I fucked your mama’s last night.”

“Man, fuck you.” Frankie rolled his eyes, but he almost laughed. Kind of, he’d made a nervous sound like a choked laughter, but still.

“No, but seriously, try it. Feels fucking great.”

Frankie glanced down at Sam, looking nervous.

“He’s gonna be pissed…”

“He’s so fucking high he won’t know shit when he snaps out of it,” Ernest argued. “Not like I’d tell him. Would you?” His eyes scanned Frankie’s careful to register his reaction. He had to know if he would do something stupid.

“Yeah, no, but…” Frankie hesitated, licking his lips. His hand had stopped moving, but his cock was still hard. He put down the magazine. “It’s… I mean, with a dude…”

“Your cock doesn’t know it’s a dude, plus it’s just a mouth. Not like you’re actually fucking him.”

Frankie didn’t respond, but his face was flushed and he couldn’t take his eyes off of the scene.

That was his cue.

Pulling out from Sam’s mouth, Ernest moved slightly to the side to give Frankie space. After a few moments, he could see him coming closer. Meanwhile, Sam coughed a few times and whined.

“Ugh, whassat?” he grumbled, and he tried to turn his face when Frankie put his cock against it, but Ernest grasped on his hair.

“Open your mouth.”

“Dun wanna…”

Ignoring his complains, Ernest brought his hand to his jaw and forced it open, helping Frankie as he slowly pushed his cock in, gasping and groaning right away.

“Oh, fuck, _he licked me_ …”

“Yeah, feels good, right?”

Ernest watched as Frankie slowly fucked Sam’s mouth, as if he was still ashamed of what he was doing, but the more he went on at it the faster his movements got, pushing his cock deeper and deeper until he was shoving it in balls-deep with every thrust, grunting and moaning loudly.

“Fuck, fuck, _oh fuck_ , fuck…” he kept on chanting, one of his hands even moving down to grope one of Sam’s breasts. Of course, Sam did not seem too happy about it, but he was too confused and dazed to even comprehend what they were doing.

“Yeah, fuck it, fuck the little whore,” Ernest growled, stroking himself to the sight of Frankie raping his friend’s mouth. He could have come like that, but he wanted more. So he went off to find some of the lotion they sometimes used to jerk off, then unzipped Sam’s pants and pulled them down, together with his underwear. His pale, soft body against the sofa looked almost like it came out of a Renaissance painting. His cock was smaller than Frankie’s, but that was also because it was mostly soft. Mostly. So he did not mind the groping too much, it seemed.

Spreading some of the lotion in his hand, Ernest lifted one of his legs and looked for his hole, forcing two of his fingers in. He heard a muffled groan, but he ignored it, adding more lotion as he thrust his fingers back and forth a few times, before slathering it on his erection.

“…what are you doing?”

Frankie had stopped moving his hips, looking at him with a shocked expression.

“I’m still hard, and you’re using his mouth, so-”

“No, no, you can’t-”

Ernest narrowed his eyes. That was going to be a problem, but he wasn’t worried.

“I’ll tell him you did it,” he told Frankie in his calmest tone, just as he was lining up his cock with Sam’s helpless little hole. “If you don’t keep your mouth shut, I’ll tell him you drugged him to fuck him.”

“I did not!” Frankie replied, his voice rising in tone. His cock was still shoved in Sam’s throat, it seemed, because Ernest could hear him choking before the other boy quickly jumped back, horrified, as if only then realizing what he’d done.

“Did you not?” Ernest asked, smirking. He started pushing his cock in, grunting from the effort, until slowly and surely the tip finally managed to slip in, and then he could finally more in, inch after inch, while Frankie stared and trembled, his cock still hard and wet with Sam’s drool.

“I…I wasn’t…”

“You sure looked like you were enjoying himself,” Ernest interrupted him before he could give him more of his sniveling. “Come on, don’t look at me like that. It’s fine, I understand. It’s just a warm hole, and you’re horny, and it’s not like he would know. It’ll be like it never happened.”

Frankie’s face was so good, Ernest wasn’t sure of what was getting him off more, if Sam’s tight hole and helplessness or Frankie’s guilt and despair as he realized what he’d gotten roped into. But it was too late, too late to go back, too late to realize he’d have to live with the knowledge of what he’d done. And he knew Frankie was too weak to handle it.

“I… I didn’t…” Frankie was almost pleading now, though whether it was directed towards him or Sam, Ernest didn’t know.

Nor care, for that matter.

“Just put that cock back in his mouth and get it on with. Go on, I won’t tell. It’ll be our secret.”

Frankie looked at him, still lost and horrified, but now there was a spark in his eyes. A hope.

“Y-you swear?”

Ernest grinned at him, his green eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Of course. You can trust me, Frankie,” he said, the lies easily flowing from his lips. “I’m your friend.”

“Uhm, that stuff was… I don’t think I wanna do it again.”

Sam was sitting near the edge of the sofa, curling up on himself.

“Bad trip?” Ernest asked him, his hand moving to stroke his hair.

Sam stiffened at the gesture, looking away.

“Yeah… I don’t know. If was…” he swallowed hard. “Weird.”

“C’mon, you don’t have to be scared. Nothing bad would happen to you here. We’re your friends.” Ernest smiled and patted his shoulder, then turned to Frankie. “Right?”

He had to hold back from chuckling when he saw him turn red and quickly look away.

“Y-yeah,” Frankie replied, shooting a quick, uncomfortable glance at Ernest, as if he didn’t know who he was looking at anymore. “We’re friends.”


	6. Day #6 - Edging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This sixth story contains: Dubious Consent, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Aphrodisiacs, Sexual Slavery, Age Difference, Fantasy Setting, Half-elf/Elf, Fantastic Racism, Sounding
> 
> The pairing is: M/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "edging"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters in this story also appear in my series [The Touch of Wolfsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647925), which is based on a roleplay with ForgottenLoveSong

Sometimes, Kannin had to wonder if his slave was plain dumb, or if he actually wanted to be punished.

It had been a while since the elven mage named Theadus was first was dragged to his shop and household by force and sold to him by the pack of wolf demons. Back then, he’d been furious and nearly impossible to deal with, though it was not too surprising. Kannin knew what it was like to be forced into servitude, though in his case he’d been born into it.

It was no wonder a proud, pureblood elf would rebel to being owned by a half-human, after all it went against everything he knew. In truth, outside of elven domains it was not uncommon for elves to be captured and sold as slaves. But Kannin doubted a sheltered young elf would know that.

Over time, Kannin had learned that some of his assumptions about Theadus had been wrong. He’d not been one of the prince’s stuck-up noble friends but rather little more than a servant, his talents squandered to babysit the royal brat. He hadn’t even grown up as a noble, though he still was a free elf, and that still meant he hadn’t known the pain of being treated like a lesser being. Even if he could not hate a lower rank elf quite as much, Kannin still couldn’t forget the fact that he was an elf, the same as the ones that had mistreated him and scorned him just for the crime of existing. Because of course the bastards could lie with humans or half-elves and have their children as long as it was in secret and as long as they were willing to let their children be raised as lesser beings whose purpose was to serve their ‘superior masters’.

For that reason, he could not bring himself to be as cruel as he’d first intended to be, but he also wasn’t going to free him. Not that he could have, since he’d bound him to himself with an ancient spell. Only after his death would Theadus be free, and Kannin thought that wasn’t such a bad deal all things considered. He’d lived long already and probably didn’t have much left, not compared to a pureblood elf who hadn’t even lived to see his first century, at least. And he had the gift of magic, and seemed to be at least somewhat interested in Kannin’s profession, so after his death he could inherit his shop and live comfortably while continuing his business, or sell all his potions and travel the world using his magic to his benefit. In fact, maybe he would have been more of a slave if he’d remained stuck in his old life, serving that stupid prince for his whole life and probably pining after him even after Eilith would get married to some other equally haughty noble. Maybe he would have gotten to be the prince’s side fuck but certainly nothing more than that. And, despite what Theadus said, Kannin did not believe that the prince was truly his friend.

That had been the cause of their altercation, though Kannin was not even quite sure of how things had gotten out of hand so fast. He remembered he’d made some kind of offensive and probably lewd remark about the prince, that Theadus had gotten defensive and he probably told him something to the effect that it was useless to kiss Eilith’s ass so much since the prince would never suck his cock in return. There had been more heated words exchanged, with Kannin losing his patience because Theadus’s stupidity, somehow the fact that he couldn’t see that Eilith was no better than any other noble elf and still defended him no matter what was incredibly annoying to him.

In the end, Theadus had gotten really pissy at him and told him something to the effect that he hated him together with an assorted mix of insults, including the usual ‘half-wit’ of course. Kannin had replied, half-annoyed and half-teasing, that it hadn’t looked like he hated him the previous night and in fact he remembered him enjoying himself quite a lot. And then, the stupid elf had started blurting out even more insults and claiming it had been all an act or maybe he’d imagined things, because he hated him and would never want someone who was as much of an ass as him, and even if he’d wanted to have sex he’d rather fuck one of the creatures he kept in his house than him.

Kannin had to admit, he was still angry even after a whole day had passed. Plus Theadus was still giving him an attitude, even if he was following his orders. So he decided he would teach him a lesson.

First off, he sent him off to clean up the cages and feed the animals. He knew he would be sweaty and thirsty after that task, so he made sure to leave some of his favorite juice that he’d laced with an aphrodisiac potion. Of course, the naive elf fell for his trap and drank it without noticing anything.

After that, he’d ordered him to stay by his side and help him with his work so that he could keep an eye on him. All the while, he kept on casually brushing his arm or his back, or to stand very close to him, letting his body press against his as he walked up behind him to show him how to mix some ingredients. Since he’d bought him some proper clothes rather than have him wear his own too-large tunic, it was not difficult for him to notice the way his body reacted as he was lightly teased for hours. Plus, even if he hadn’t been able to see the bulge in his trousers, the way Theadus flushed and panted and how he was easily distracted and leaned into the touches before he realized it would have made it clear.

“What is it, you look so distracted today,” Kannin told him at some point, leaning in to whisper against his ear, noticing how Theadus shivered when his breath hit the sensitive skin. “Maybe you don’t want me to teach you how to make potions? Is there something else you’d rather learn from me?”

Theadus had gulped hard and glanced down at Kannin’s crotch, though he would not be able to see much under his more covering tunic. But then he’d shook his head and glared at him with his mismatched eyes.

“Of course not, you half-wit!”

_Wrong choice, Theadus_ , Kannin thought, grinning widely.

“Oh, so you’re just really excited about potions against stomachache?” he asked, bringing his hand between the elf’s legs and squeezing on his cock through the thin fabric of his trousers.

Theadus had gasped, grabbing on his shoulders and pushing his hips forward, before he suddenly came back to his senses and jumped back.

“I’m not a pervert like you! It… it must be some weird side effect from something I touched.” Theadus quickly looked away and went back to his task, angrily chopping up some mushrooms.

“I see… so, I guess you don’t need a hand,” Kannin said, lifting up his tunic and bringing one hand down to stroke himself. “Or something more than a hand.” He was half-hard already, thanks to Theadus’s sexy reactions, and he could see the elf was stopping to glance at his cock and even licked his lips once.

“O-of course I don’t, you pervert.”

“Is that all you can say?” Kannin asked, grinning. His annoyance towards the younger elf was already turning into amusement, it was just so fun to tease him and watch him squirm.

“I-if you want to fuck then go ahead and do it,” Theadus replied, face flushed as he glanced back to his cock once again.

With a loud sigh, Kannin stopped touching himself and let the tunic fall down, covering him up again.

“Nah. After all you hate me and don’t want me, right? So I don’t think I should.”

Theadus looked at him in shock for a moment. Then he scrunched up his face and humpfed.

“You’re an ass,” he grumbled under his breath, but still loud enough for Kannin to hear.

The alchemist chuckled, placing one hand on his shoulder and whispering against his ear again.

“Well, I’ll go take care of myself. You can continue here… or you can join me. Only if you want to, of course.”

“Like hell I do!” Theadus growled, though it did little to hide the way his breath hitched at the touch and the feel of his breath on his sensitive ear.

“So you’re fine staying like this? Well then…” and Kannin used a specific ancient elvish word, one that was linked to the spell he’d put on Theadus. “You won’t mind if you don’t get to cum, will you?” He couldn’t see it, of course, but he knew that some of the markings on Theadus’s body had started glowing red, the ones that were on his cock.

And, with that, he walked out of the lab and went to his own room, wondering if Theadus would join him or not.

Kannin had to admit, Theadus’s stubborness was almost impressive.

It had been three days since his little game had started. He hadn’t used the aphrodisiac again, but he didn’t think he needed to. On the second day, he’d walked on Theadus trying to use one of the tools with a long and thick handle as a dildo while desperately stroking himself, offering him to help him instead. As a response, Theadus had pulled out the tool and thrown it at him, missing him completely. The furious and desperate expression on the elf’s face as he laughed and walked away from him had been very funny, but also quite arousing.

After all, Theadus had not been the only one who was holding back. Kannin had meant to wait for his pet to come crawling to him and beg him to fuck him, but he was growing impatient. At the end of that third day, he went to visit Theadus in the room he’d almost fully cleaned up and had now become his. He didn’t knock, of course, but Theadus barely reacted as he walked in and sat down on the bed next to him. The elf was reading a book and making a big show about how assorted he was in it. Though when Kannin’s hand went to his thigh, he couldn’t help but glance down and let out a loud trembling breath.

“So you really do hate me,” he told him, and Theadus huffed and looked away, but did not respond. Well, that was some progress.

“I used to hate you too, a little bit at least,” he continued, moving his hand up to Theadus’s crotch and caressing his cock from above his clothes. He was just wearing light breeches and a white shirt that was almost see-through. Kannin could see his nipples through it, and noticed that they were poking against the fabric. He couldn’t help but grow excited almost as fast as Theadus was, his cock rapidly growing hard in his hand. “I hated you because you’re an elf. But I don’t feel like that anymore. In fact, I quite enjoy having you around.”

“Well, I don’t care…” Theadus hastily replied, but his face was flushed, and maybe not just because of the arousal.

“I understand you hate me, after all I’m forcing you to be here. But I’m not so sure that you don’t want me.”

He pulled down his breeches and lifted his shirt, leaning in closer so that he could kiss his stomach and slowly move up, reaching his chest where he started to lick one of his nipples, while his hand caressed the inside of his thighs before reaching up to gently cup and caress his balls. He heard him gasp and moan and felt his hand grasp his hair, holding him in place as he sucked and licked and even bit on his nipple, before moving to do the same to the other, finding that it was just as hard. Theadus was so red that even his chest was flushed, and when his hand moved up to his length he was not surprised to find that he was hard there too.

He took his time to taste his nipples, leisurely stroking his cock as he did so. He could hear Theadus moaning and whining, moving his hips to thrust himself into his hand, to try and get him to stroke faster, but even if he did there would be no release until Kannin undid the spell that kept him from cumming.

“Get on top of me,” he told him after a while, but when Theadus was about to sit on his lap he made him turn around so that his ass was right in front of his face, while his own erection was exactly in front of the other’s face. He could feel his hot breath ghosting against it, his hair tickling it as he leaned in closer. He did not ask him to suck him off, but Theadus grasped on the base and took the tip in his mouth all by himself, and, well, Kannin wasn’t about to complain.

What he was about to do, instead, was to spread apart Theadus’s cheeks to expose his hole, licking his lips before he dug in and started to circle it with his tongue, teasing it and lightly pushing against it, again and again, until he felt it soften and accept his tongue, allowing him to push it in and out to tease him, occasionally moving down to lick and suck on his balls while ignoring his twitching hard length.

Theadus’s attentions intensified in response, maybe he hoped that if he could get him off fast he’d get his release too. Of course, Kannin wasn’t going to let him off so easily, so even after he’d arched up and came inside the elf’s mouth he did not stop nor lift the spell, eating him out like a delicious meal while Theadus mewled and cried out in pleasure, clearly desperate for release, but not quite desperate enough.

Next, Kannin paused to get a couple things. First was an oil he liked to use as lubricant, pouring some of it between Theadus’s cheeks and spreading it with his fingers before pushing two of them inside, even if he probably would have been able to penetrate him just with his spit from before with how long he’d been licking him. While he did that, he also poured some of the oil on his cock, and particularly on the tip. Theadus seemed confused about that until he saw the other thing that Kannin had gotten: a thin rod with a ring at the end of it, while the other end was smooth. It was shaped almost like a series of small beads, and Kannin knew they would drive him crazy with pleasure.

“Wait– not that,” Theadus weakly tried to protest, but when the tip was pushed against his slit and at the same time Kannin found his prostate with his fingers, he could do nothing but moan and spread his legs, watching as the rod was slowly pushed all the way inside his throbbing hard cock until only the ring was peeking out from the slit.

“Y-you ass,” he groaned, but it sounded half-hearted. He was clearly more horny than angry, and he couldn’t stop his hips from moving to meet Kannin’s fingers as he fucked him with them, spreading him open and preparing him for more.

His own cock was slowly coming back to life as well, thanks to Theadus’s sexy moans and obscene movements. After he’d grown fully hard again, he lay down on the bed again and made Theadus climb on top of him, this time with his ass pressing against his erection.

“Ride me,” he told him, and Theadus glared at him, turning even redder than before, but he did as he asked. When he slowly sheated himself on his cock, his expression immediately changed. His hands went on Kannin’s chest so that he could steady himself as he started to move his hips, slowly at first, but it did not take him long to get used to the insertion. Soon enough, he was riding him hard and fast and almost howling in pleasure, and when Kannin started to rub his cock at the same time his movements grew frenzied as if he was an animal in heat, his cock leaking so much precum that it dribbled down around the sound that had been forced in it while his expression was both blissful and frustrated, the intense pleasure building up without ever reaching the release he so desperately wanted. He was panting and even drooling a little, his pupils so wide that his irises were thin mismatched rings around them.

“You look like you want something,” Kannin teased him, panting and groaning as well as his own climax drew nearer.

“F-fuck you!” Theadus cursed, though it was clear that his resolve was crumbling. When Kannin grasped on his hips and fucked him even faster from below his eyes rolled back and he could only let out a string of curses, followed by a pained whine after the alchemist came deep inside him only to pull out right after, Theadus’s ass clenching down hard on his cock as if he didn’t want to let it go.

“I wonder why you’re looking like that, it almost look like you’re about to cry,” Kannin said, knowing that it was cruel to taunt him, but it was just too much fun.

Theadus was too weak to complain when he pulled him in his lap and started to play with his nipples with one hand, alternating between the two as he pinched and pulled and tweaked them, rolling them between his fingers. His other hand went down to his cock, slowly caressing his whole length while one finger hooked on the ring that peeked out, pulling the sound in and out of his cock at the same time.

Theadus’s whole body was shaking, and he really did start to cry from the frustration. Finally, after just a few more minutes Kannin got just what he wanted, what he’d been waiting for all along.

“P-please… let me cum, Master, please!”

“Are you sure? I thought you did not want me, or my help?” he asked him, unable to resist the temptation to tease him just a little more.

“Ah! Y-you bastard– I mean, Master… please, I can’t, I need it… please make me cum.”

“Well then, since you’re asking so nicely…”

Kannin murmured the spell word that would release him, and almost immediately Theadus arched up and came, screaming in pleasure as his cock started squirting even before Kannin could pull out the sound, cumming all over his hand as well as his own stomach.

Kannin grabbed a towel to wipe him clean, then he helped him lay down as he spooned him from behind, kissing the tip of his ear and smirking when he saw him twitching in response, his body left oversensitive after the powerful orgasm.

“Are you still sure you don’t want me?” he asked, to which Theadus only groaned weakly in annoyance, before turning towards him and burying his head against his chest.

Kannin stroked his hair and back until he fell asleep, then closed his eyes to do the same. He was still smirking when he fell asleep, satisfied by his small victory


	7. Day #7 - Humiliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This seventh story contains: HEAVY Humiliation, BDSM Scene, Heavy BDSM (psychologically), Verbal Humiliation & Dirty Talk, Humiliation, Semi-Public Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Consensual Kink, Master/Pet, Petplay, Muscular Bottom, MILD SCAT - Read at Your Own Risk. This is one hundred percent consensual but shit happens. Literally. Nobody eats the doo doo, but there is doo doo.
> 
> EDIT: I forgot to add there's an offhand mention of bestiality at some point but it's just meant as teasing
> 
> The pairing is: M/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "humiliation"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pre-negotiated scene in the context of a 110% consensual and affectionate D/s relationship. The sub in said relationship just happens to be very masochistic. There was a lot of aftercare afterwards, and a warm bath at home.
> 
> For context, Bjørn's name literally means "bear" and bjørnung means "bear cub".

Lars was walking leisurely down the street, whistling a cheerful tone. In his hand was a leash that he tugged on every now and then, whenever he saw that his cute pet was stopping in the middle of their walk.

“Come on, boy, we’re almost there,” he told him, glancing back and giving him an encouraging smile.

The way Bjørn looked back at him as he awkwardly trailed behind him, grasping on the front of his raincoat as if he feared the wind would suddenly blow and lift it like Marilyn Monroe’s dress in that iconic scene, it made all his blood pool down to his groin. A part of him was tempted to sneak into the closest dark alley and order Bjørn to suck him off, but that would be a waste. After all the careful preparation and the encouragement that Bjørn had needed to go along with his plan, he couldn’t just chicken out and settle for something half-assed. He was a better Dom than that.

For that reason, Lars patiently walked his pet to the park, sticking close to him whenever they happened to come across someone else so that his pet could hide behind his larger frame. Rather than being attached directly to his collar, the leash was slipped through his sleeve, underneath his raincoat, and _then_ it reached the D-ring of his collar. That way, in the worst case scenario Lars could just let go and Bjørn could quickly pull the leash all the way up to his wrist. Of course, upon closer inspection it would seem quite weird that the shorter man was wearing a raincoat and boots but no pants, but given how it was late at night and the main light came from the street lamps it would not be immediately noticeable by just any random bystander.

“There we go! Now we just have to get in…”

Of course, the park was closed at night, though that did not mean it was empty. Truth to be told, it was not necessarily the safest place to be, but Lars doubted that a mugger would choose to attack a man over two metres tall or one built like a wrestler out of all the people there. Though, just to be safe, both him and Bjørn had brought pepper spray.

As soon as they got in, Lars stopped and turned towards Bjørn, gently pulling his arms away from the front of his raincoat to undo its buttons, noticing that he was shaking. It could have been from the cold, but even in that faint light Lars could see how red his face was.

“Are you scared, my little bjørnung?” he teased him once he’d opened his coat, briefly letting go of the leash so that he could pull it out of the sleeve and finally walk him like a proper pet. Looking down between his legs, he could see that he was already half-hard and he smirked. “I see, you’re already so excited for your walk. Should we continue, then?”

Bjørn swallowed hard, hesitating for a few moments. Then, he responded loud and clear.

“Woof!”

Lars’s lips spread into a full-toothed grin.

“Good boy. You won’t be needing this, then.”

He helped him out out of his coat, exposing his body to the cold air. Much like his namesake, Bjørn was stocky and covered in dark brown hair, with amber eyes and a short ginger beard. He was significantly shorter than Lars, who however towered over most people seeing how he was roughly 210 tall. He looked lankier in comparison, but he was still quite well-built. Most importantly — and much to Bjørn’s delight — he was strong enough to deliver a solid spanking whenever his pet decided to misbehave.

That night, however, Lars was counting on Bjørn to be on his best behavior. It would be much more fun for the both of them if he complied.

Taking out a torch to light the way, Lars tested it to make sure it worked, briefly pointing it between Bjørn’s legs just to tease him and chuckling when his pet tried to cover himself with his hands.

“No, bad doggie. That’s not how a proper dog walks,” he scolded him. “On your hand and knees. Now.”

Watching his boyfriend slowly get down on his knees was a turn-on. He rarely hesitated to do so, but it was clear he was already embarrassed. Maybe it was because they were still so close to the entrance, close enough that a passing car might catch a glimpse of them. He was almost completely naked, but he had knee-pads and thick protective gloves as well as his boots. After all, Lars didn’t want him getting his hands or legs cut on a broken bottle or worse, even if he was lighting up the way with his torch it was better not to risk the chance.

“Much better. Now, come. It’s time for your walk.”

Lars took the first step, tugging lightly on the collar. Bjørn stumbled a little at first, but then he hurried to follow him. Not that it was too difficult, as Lars was making sure to be mindful of the fact that his long legs carried him much further than Bjørn’s shorter limbs, especially when he was not used to using all four of them.

“Good boy. Isn’t it nice out here? I wonder if you’ll make any new friends,” he told him in a cheerful tone. “Though I guess there’s only junkies around at this hour… or perverts. I wonder if they’d be surprised, seeing a big boy like you on his first walk.”

He continued to walk him along the main path, all the while conversing with him… or rather, talking down to him.

“I wonder if anyone’s watching… keep your head down, boy. Watch your step,” he immediately reprimanded him when he saw him glance around, as if to check if anyone else was really there. “What’s wrong, scared that someone would see you? What do you think they would do, huh? Probably laugh at you, right? You look so pathetic right now… are you hard? I bet you’re hard. I don’t know what for, I haven’t even touched you yet.”

His tone was cruel, vibrating with excitement. Even without looking, he knew that he was right. He could tell from the way he panted, from how he slowed down and tried to hide himself when he briefly pointed the torch towards him.

“Dirty little horndog. What does it feel like, to be such a shameless pervert? Walking around with your ass out, crawling like a little doggy. Is this really what gets you off? I bet you’re hoping someone is there to see how much of a filthy bitch you are.”

He stopped to crouch down and grasp on his hair, pulling his head back and chuckling at his mortified expression. He was so ashamed, and at the same time so aroused. Lars could see it in his eyes. He let go of his hair and gently stroked his cheek, before spitting in his face and pushing his head down, almost making him kiss the ground.

“Disgusting. Maybe I should get a real dog instead. You could go on walks together. Eat from the same bowl. I wonder if you’d let it fuck you? I bet you would. I bet you’d suck its dick too. Wouldn’t you?”

“N-no,” came the answer, to which he yanked on his collar and slapped his ass harshly, making him cry out loud in surprise and pain.

“I think I’ve misheard you, pup. What is it that you really wanted to say?”

“Woof!”

“That’s what I thought.”

Lars started walking again, whistling a familiar tune. He had a stong stuck in the back of his head, but he didn’t quite remember the title.

He lead his boyfriend around the park, tugging on his leash whenever he tried to stop.

“Hurry up, bitch. What’s the matter, all the blood went down to your cock and now your head is empty? Well isn’t it good you’re such a brainless slut to begin with, then?”

He could tell from his pained expression, from his awkward movements, it was almost time.

“What is it, boy? Speak up.”

“Woof,” Bjørn cried out, his tone whiny and needy. one of his hands moved towards his crotch, or maybe his stomach, either way Lars grasped on it and pulled it back down. “Woof! Woof!” He sounded almost like he was about to cry. Lars felt his own cock twitch.

“Oh, do you need to go? Right now? We’re in the middle of the park, you know. We won’t be able to get home. There’s a bathroom right there, just a few more steps. Even a dumb bitch like you can manage that much, right?”

Bjørn whined again, but he obediently followed him as he tugged on his leash again, guiding him towards the public toilet. It would have taken less than a minute, if Bjørn hadn’t struggled so much to keep up with his pace, so he eventually had to slow down and let him stop every now and then, addressing him with demeaning words every time he did so.

“Come on, you filthy bitch. Move your ass. Or would you rather shit yourself right here?”

“Woof!”

Finally, the torch illuminated the small square building. Bjørn made a small whiny sound and tried to get up, but Lars pressed his foot against his head before he could, grinding his heel against it as he held him down.

“Who the fuck told you you could get up? Are you fucking stupid? Do dogs walk on two legs?”

“…woof,” Bjørn whined, sounding apologetic. Once Lars put down his foot, his boyfriend glanced towards the toilets, then back to him. “Woof?”

“That’s right, here is the toilet… but that’s the men’s toilet. Are you a man, right now? Use that dumb little brain of yours, I know you know the answer.”

Hesitantly, Bjørn shook his head. _Fuck._ Lars couldn’t help but bring his hand to his own crotch, briefly rubbing his cock from above his jeans. He was rock-hard.

“Good boy. You’re not a man, you’re a big, dumb dog.” He reached out to pat his head, caressing his hair. He could see his eyes light up even from that simple gesture.

_Fuck, that’s adorable._

“Do dogs use the toilet?” he asked him. There was a moment of confusion on Bjørn’s face, then it suddenly dawned on him. He turned bright red and looked almost affronted.

“I can’t… I can’t do it here!”

“Why not? You’re a dog. That’s what dogs do.”

“But I–” Bjørn looked away, biting his lip. His hand went down to his stomach and he grimaced. “Please. Please. I need to…”

“I don’t see the problem. There’s nobody here anyway.”

“You’re here!”

“And?”

“And you– you can’t just… just watch. That’s…” Bjørn looked down to the ground, whimpering again.

“That’s what? _Disgusting?_ ” Lars leaned in closer to ask, forcing him to look up at him. “And how has that stopped you, so far? Every filthy thing that you’ve done… every time you’ve shown me that pathetic face you make whenever I shove my fucking fist in your guts, crying like a little girl and pissing yourself, isn’t that disgusting? Every time you suck me off and you choke on my dick and drool like a fucking retard, don’t you think that’s disgusting? Every time I step on your cock and tell you you’re a useless sack of meat and slap your face until you cum, that’s so fucking disgusting.”

His hand went down as he spoke, unzipping his jeans and pulling down his briefs, taking his cock out and rubbing it against Bjørn’s tear-stricken face.

“See? Do you see how fucking hard that makes me? Every time you show me just how filthy and shamelessly disgusting you can be, that’s _so fucking hot_. You think I wouldn’t want to see it, _because_ it’s disgusting? You stupid bitch. I want a fucking _front seat_.”

Bjørn looked up at him, face flushed, tears streaming down his cheeks, smiling.

“I’ll… I’ll try my best.”

Lars slowly stroked his cock, rubbing his glans against his boyfriend’s face and smearing precum all over his beard. The way he crouched and whimpered, his hands grasping on Lars’s jeans, squinting and turning even redder.

“I–I can’t do it if you stare so much…”

“Don’t be such a crybaby, you’re not some dainty princess. You’re a masochistic bitch, the filthiest of sows, a fucking pervert who gets off from being treated like the dirt under my shoes, and you’re gonna tell me you’re ashamed of taking a shit in front of your boyfriend?”

“N-no, I…”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re still fucking hard. You know that? You’re giving me this pitiful look like a hurt puppy but meanwhile your cock is hard, is this a fucking joke? You don’t get to complain when you’re _this_ hard. The truth is, this is still getting you off. You’re shitting in the middle of a park, in front of your boyfriend and who knows how many perverts hiding in the bushes, and it’s making you so fucking horny you’ll jerk off for weeks thinking back to it.”

He took one of Bjørn’s hands and brought him down between his legs, making him wrap his fingers around his raging hard-on before going back to jerking himself off to the scene, panting as he felt his own orgasm draw closer, as he watched Bjørn close his eyes and whimper and sob and masturbate, his whole body shaking until, finally, there was a series of obscene wet sounds as he relieved himself right in front of him from both ends, leaving a shameful souvenir on the ground while his cum sprayed all over one of his boyfriend’s legs and shoes.

“Ooh, fuck!” Lars groaned, the sight finally pushing him to the edge and making him unload all over Bjørn’s face and chest. He was not surprised when he saw him take the tip of his spent cock in his mouth and suck out all the remaining cum, staring up at him with a dazed expression on his cum-stained face.

“Look at you. You’re such a mess.” Lars told him in an affectionate tone, smiling warmly at him and pulling him up on his feet. Bjørn was still trembling as he held him, grasping on his shoulders for balance.

“You’re gonna get dirty…” Bjørn weakly complained, but he sounded happy. If he had an actual dog tail, Lars was sure it would be wagging furiously.

“My little bjørnung. You know I like it dirty,” he whispered, holding him tightly and stroking his back. “That’s why I love you so much.”


	8. Day #8 - Creampie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This first story contains: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con (NOT Between The Main Pair!), Consensual Sex, Knotting, Creampie, Mating Press, Fluff and Angst, Wolf Pack, Wolf Demons, Fantastic Racism, Rimming, Anal Sex, Begging, Size Difference
> 
> (Technically age difference too since the elf character is almost 90 but that doesn't really play into the story)
> 
> The pairing is: M/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "creampie"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters in this story also appear in my series [The Touch of Wolfsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647925), which is based on a roleplay with ForgottenLoveSong

It had been a very quiet day, and that was rare for Eilith. It was almost kind of unsettling and he didn’t trust it. Still, he wasn’t going to complain while it lasted.

Wotan was in a good mood and mostly distracted by his lover, Navilis, so he spent his day hunting with the others and being pampered by his white-haired mate once they got back. Then, Hades and Taranis had played with Seth for most of the afternoon, allowing Eilith to rest. By the time he woke up, his child was exhausted and curled up to him in his wolf form, sleeping soundly.

Even Jupiter had been unusually calm and inoffensive, though that was because he was sick. Something bad he’d eaten, maybe, or something he caught in the last village they visited. Eilith knew he’d slept with a prostitute on a whim after she came to their table to flirt with them at the inn where they were staying. Now he was banned from having sex with Eilith in case she gave him something since none of the other wolves wanted to catch it, at least until they visited Kannin the alchemist and he cured him of whatever it was. He was grumpy, of course, but too weakened to bother the elf in other ways.

That evening, after they all had eaten and Eilith had gotten his portion for last, sharing it with Seth, Taranis approached him with some hesitation.

“I’m going to the river to wash up. I’ll ask Hades to check on Seth if you want to come. So do you want to?”

Things were still awkward between them. They’d slowly grown closer again, after Taranis realized how attached Eilith had grown to their child and that he’d accepted him fully, not caring if he was a half-blood.

Still, it was hard for them to be close when there were so many things trying to divide them. Hades didn’t like it, thinking Eilith was only trying to trick Taranis. Wotan wanted Eilith to be miserable, so he didn’t want to see the omega going soft on him. And, of course, Navilis still tried to pit them against each other, but now Eilith didn’t trust him anymore and Taranis had learned of his lies.

“Yes, I’ll come,” Eilith replied, smiling meekly. He knew Taranis didn’t mean to just bathe, or else he would have brought Seth along too. He just needed an excuse for Wotan so that he’d agree to let him bring Eilith somewhere where the rest of the pack wouldn’t see them.

Despite the alpha’s good mood, Eilith still felt nervous as Taranis took his leash and guided him towards Wotan, who was sitting by the fire and letting Navilis comb his long silver hair.

“What do you want, omega?” Wotan barked at him, reminding him of his place, but there was no anger in his tone.

“I’ll bring the elf to the river, he needs a bath,” Taranis replied, holding his gaze for a moment before bowing his head in respect.

The alpha wolf smirked, pleased by that display of subservience. “Just don’t let the bitch escape.” It had been a year if not more since the incident but he still held it over Taranis’s head. “He still has to bear my children. In fact I think I’ll fuck him when you get back.”

Eilith cringed at those words. Of course he had to ruin anything nice for him. He really hated Wotan. He had hated him when he first was captured by the pack and the feeling only grew since then. He couldn’t help but glare at him, which made Wotan snarl at him and show his fangs until Eilith cowered in fear and hid behind Taranis, which made the alpha laugh in derision.

Since they had his approval to leave the camp, Taranis did not waste time as he lead him outside, still holding him by his leash. He didn’t let go until they were too far to be seen, even taking the leash off from the front ring of his collar and allowing him to walk normally behind him, something Eilith was grateful for. He wasn’t going to try to escape, he wouldn’t leave his child behind, so there was no need to keep him collared and leashed, but Wotan insisted on it and the alpha’s word was law in the pack. At least while he was there to see.

“We can stop to pick berries if you’re still hungry,” Taranis told him, glancing back to him to check that he was still following him. Not so much because he feared he’d run but rather because Eilith was slower than the wolf demon and sometimes struggled to keep up. Especially when he was injured or tired.

“Thank you,” Eilith replied, he’d tried to ignore it but his stomach was still half empty. He and Taranis usually alternated sharing their food with Seth since Wotan wouldn’t allow the child to have his own portion, claiming he was already being generous by not abandoning it in a forest or selling it off to a slave trader. “We should bring some back for Seth.”

He’d let Taranis hide them since his own clothes were… well, calling them clothes was a stretch. They didn’t really cover anything much less have space to hide anything. That day he was wearing a sheer white loincloth that barely covered his front, leaving his backside fully exposed. On his arms were long gloves that left most of his hands bare, attaching to a golden ring in his middle finger and reaching almost all the way up to his shoulders, where the fabric was kept in place by a golden bracelet. The most practical part of his outfit were the long stockings that went up to the middle of his thighs, because they had soles and sort-of-shoes around his feet which meant they were protected from injury. Not that it was a very sturdy protection, but still better than nothing.

After they’d collected some berries and fruit for Eilith to eat and then some more to bring back to Seth, they finally headed to the river.

Once they got there, Taranis was the first to strip so that he could get in the water, with Eilith standing there and watching him as he did so. He knew his father would think he had gone crazy if he knew of the things that went through his mind. Staring at Taranis’s muscular back and his arms, at the scars on his body, thinking that he was handsome. Even his horns and his markings, they once made Eilith feel wary, reminding him that the other was an half-breed. Now they only added to his charm.

Compared to him, Eilith felt inadequate. He didn’t like his body. He used to be more confident about it before he was captured. Now he was fully aware of how weak it was, of how small and pathetic he looked to the pack, how easy he was to overpower. He knew he was attractive, even Hades had admitted to it, but that didn’t make him feel good. All it meant was that the wolves saw him as a toy, a pretty doll to play with and mistreat. All except Taranis. Whenever Taranis told him he was beautiful, he didn’t feel dirty. Instead, it made him flush and feel warm inside.

“Take those off, it’ll take forever to dry them if they get wet,” Taranis told him, snapping him out of his musings. “Do you need help?”

“No, I can do it,” Eilith replied, turning slightly red. He didn’t mind Taranis touching him but he didn’t want to seem like he couldn’t do any little thing by himself. It didn’t take long to take the few garments off anyway, so soon enough they were both naked, standing awkwardly in front of the river. There was a small lake there were the water was stiller, which looked quite nice. On the opposite side was a tall tree with very long branches that dipped into its waters, and in the water there were plants that looked like lily pads, covering parts of its surface. However, when Taranis picked him up and walked into the lake, they closed up and sunk into the water as if to hide whenever they came near, clearing a path to the center where the water was deeper.

Eilith was clinging to him, wrapping his legs around his waist and his arms around his shoulders. He could feel Taranis’s length against him and it was half-hard, which made him blush. He wondered how long had he been aroused and if he too had been staring at him while he undressed.

Slowly, Taranis lowered him in the cold water. Eilith felt goosebumps all over his skin, after all that time he got used to the cold baths but it still was a bit of a shock for his body at first. He stood up on his own and the water almost went up to his chest, while for Taranis it reached above his bellybutton. He was taller than him. Somehow he looked smaller around the other wolves in the pack, maybe because of his rank and how he always had to bow down to the others, but when they were alone Eilith could see he was at least as big as Hades.

“I’m going to wash you now, okay?” Taranis asked. Eilith knew he liked it better when he was clean, when he didn’t smell like the others. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him since the other wolves didn’t seem to mind but he went along with it. It felt nice to be cleaned and Taranis wasn’t rough with him. It reminded him of when his servants used to bathe him.

Eilith stood still, getting used to the temperature while the wolf used his oils and lotions to clean up his body and hair. Eilith held on to him, once again wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

“Are you cold?” Taranis asked, since Eilith was shaking. But it wasn’t the cold that affected him as much as his nerves. He didn’t even know why he was so anxious. It was a mixture of things. Things he didn’t want to be thinking about in that moment.

So, rather than answering, Eilith leaned in closer and pulled himself up, pressing his lips against the wolf’s. A part of him still recoiled at his own actions, a voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like his father’s yelling that he shouldn’t do this, that he shouldn’t want it. But now he knew his father was a liar, so rather than feeling guilty he held on even tighter to Taranis and brought a hand to his reddish-brown hair.

Taranis kissed him back, his hands roaming on Eilith’s body again, in a more possessive way. His palms were rougher than those of the other wolves but his touch was never as harsh. Even when he touched his buttocks, when he pressed his hips against his body and Eilith could feel his full erection, the prince was not afraid. His kiss grew bolder, his hand moving down to grasp on the wolf’s cock, and he felt Taranis gasp against his lips.

Eilith caressed him slowly, his small hand moving from the tip to its base, feeling the part where his shaft got thicker and would swell up even more once he was close to cumming. Taranis always held back when they were having sex, trying to keep it outside, but the truth was Eilith liked it. He liked how it filled him up, he liked how it kept them connected. He didn’t use to, but much had changed since then.

“Eilith,” Taranis whispered after their kiss ended, his voice was breathy and his hands grasped on his body as he moved his hips in response to Eilith’s touch. The prince could hear the need in his voice, he needed him, he wanted him, and it made his heart beat faster.

Before he could do or say anything, Taranis surprised him by picking him up again and carrying him closer to the edge, making him sit on a large rock. His head was now at the same level as Eilith’s navel, and he started to kiss his belly before moving lower, pushing his legs open and grasping on his thighs to keep them apart as he kissed the inside of them, making Eilith shiver and gasp and moan lightly as those lips touched his sensitive skin.

The prince’s hands went down to grasp on Taranis’s curved horns when the wolf demon started to tease his cock, making him moan even louder. He shuddered and tried to move his hips as Taranis licked and kissed his length without taking it into his mouth, making it even more sensitive. By the time he went down to lick his balls, some drops of precum were already spilling from the tip of Eilith’s cock.

As much as he wanted to touch himself, Eilith held back. Then, when Eilith’s tongue found his hole, he cried out loud and grasped even harder on his horns, instinctively trying to move away.

“N-not that!” he whined, turning bright red. Despite how much he’d been humiliated in various ways, somehow that was still something he was embarrassed about, especially when Taranis did it. Maybe it was because of how vocal he got, because somehow his body really liked it. “Ah! Nnh… that’s not… fair…”

Taranis didn’t relent, knowing his complaint was more performative than genuine. He lapped gently at his hole, traced it, pushed his tongue in, teased it with long licks starting from the base of his tailbone reaching up to his balls before focusing on the tight pucker again, demanding entrance.

Eilith’s entire body was quivering in pleasure, he closed his eyes because glancing down and seeing Taranis’s face buried in his ass was far too much, his own face so red and warm it felt like it was boiling. He could not hold back his cries and his hips tried to move but Taranis was holding him still, so he was completely at his mercy. It was a sweet torture and it turned him into a moaning, panting mess, taking over his whole body.

“Taranis… _fuck!_ Ah!” Eilith rarely swore but he was unable to hold back, whining as his body cried for more. His hand went down to touch himself but Taranis grasped on it and pulled it away, making Eilith groan in frustration. It felt so good but it wasn’t enough to cum, so the longer it went on the more desperate he was.

“Taranis, please, please…” he started begging, his cock so hard it almost hurt and steadily leaking precum, his soft hole opening up for Taranis and twitching, asking for more.

Rather than stopping, Taranis started to add fingers, sliding first one then two inside of him as he kept on licking in and around it. He started moving them as soon as he realized there was no resistance, looking for Eilith’s sweet spot. He knew he found it when Eilith almost yelled and his whole body jerked, his inner walls clamping down on his fingers.

“AH! No, please, I… I want you, this isn’t enough…” Eilith begged, opening his blue eyes again to stare down at him, feeling a warm shiver run up his spine when he saw the way Taranis looked back at him. There was a hunger in his gaze, but it didn’t scare him. 

Finally, Taranis let go of his thighs and pulled back, also pulling out his fingers. Eilith’s hole felt empty and it itched with need, and when Taranis picked him up again Eilith had to hold back from rubbing his cock against his, his legs immediately wrapping around him and his arms grasping on his shoulders.

Taranis held him up with ease, even when he had to use one of his hands to guide his cock as Eilith lifted his hips to help, lining his cock with his entrance.

There was no resistance as it slid in, getting almost halfway in with the first push. Eilith’s grasp got tighter and he cried out loud in relief and pleasure, moving his hips to try and meet Taranis’s thrusts. It was not the easiest position to move in but the wolf grabbed his hips and helped him move faster, pushing more of his cock inside of him. Eilith tried to bury his face against his chest but Taranis kissed him first, making him moan against his lips as he found the right angle and brushed that spot inside of him with every thrust.

“Ah! T-Taranis!” Eilith cried out when the kiss broke, trying his best to meet the wolf’s thrusts as he was bounced on his cock, but it was not enough. Taranis seemed to think the same, because he carried him out of the water and pulled out briefly to push him down on the soft grass, climbing on top of him. Eilith immediately spread his legs, his arms still wrapped around him, and he cried out in delight as Taranis pushed himself back in, managing to get deeper in that pose.

The more he fucked him, the more fired up Taranis got, holding his ass up and pressing down on his thighs with his body, while Eilith moaned away and wrapped his legs around his back, digging into his shoulders with his nails. He couldn’t move at all in that position so he could only beg Taranis for more, although he could barely speak as he kept moaning loudly in pleasure, while the wolf’s thrusts grew faster and faster.

When he felt his knot swell up, Eilith pushed his heels against Taranis’s back as soon as he tried to pull out.

“Don’t, I want it, please, please,” he desperately begged, grasping on Taranis’s hair to make him look into his eyes. “Don’t pull out.”

“But I-”

Eilith didn’t let him finish, kissing him hungrily, and when he pulled back his face was flushed and his eyes filled with desire.

“Please, Taranis, please, please…”

There was still doubt in the wolf’s eyes but he was weak to Eilith’s begging, especially when he was so aroused, and the prince knew and took full advantage of it. Plus, as gentle as he was he was still a wolf demon and there was something primal in him, something that made him want to do just as Eilith was asking, even if he knew the risks. Eilith could tell from the way his grasp tightened, from the way he breathed and the look on his face, he was holding back but he wanted to, and deep inside him there was an animalistic urge to fill up that elf, to claim his mate and breed him.

“I want it inside, please, just this time,” he pleaded, pulling Taranis’s head closer so that he could whisper against his ear.

“But… Wotan-”

“I don’t care, I don’t want him, I want _you_. I’m yours.”

“Fuck,” Taranis growled, and he stopped himself before he could finish pulling back, slamming his hips back down as he started moving again, his thrusts growing faster but shallower as his knot swelled up fully inside of Eilith, who gasped and cried out loud with every thrust, hiding his face against Taranis’s shoulder as his heart swelled up with delight. He knew why he’d tried to stop, he knew why it was a bad idea, but he didn’t care. Even the thought that Wotan would find out and be angry wasn’t enough to scare him, in fact in the high of the pleasure he felt a vindictive joy even if he knew he’d regret it. The bastard could fuck him if he wanted to but he was going to get Taranis’s sloppy seconds.

“E-Eilith, I’m close,” Taranis warned him, panting and groaning as he chased his orgasm, too close to be able to hold back so he could only warn him. Eilith didn’t answer, barely hearing him through the haze of his own pleasure, and when Taranis pressed down harder and came inside with a deep rumbling moan, Eilith arched up and came from the feeling of being filled up and held down, his body clamping down on Taranis’s cock and milking it, feeling his knot stretching him out and keeping every single drop of his cum inside. Maybe he really was a bitch in heat, maybe they were right to insult him, but he didn’t care. He just enjoyed the moment, the rapture of that overwhelming pleasure that took over him and left him breathless and drained, his legs and arms losing their grasp while Taranis still held on to him as he recovered, panting against his sensitive ear and making him shiver.

As soon as his wits fully returned to him, Taranis rolled over so that Eilith was laying on top of him, his knot still swollen up and keeping them connected. He stroked the prince’s hair and back, but when he spoke he sounded upset.

“I shouldn’t have listened. Wotan is going to be pissed.”

Eilith sighed.

“He’s going to be pissed anyway. He hates me.”

Taranis looked like he wanted to say more, but he just sighed and held him tighter.

“I don’t want him, Taranis. I want you.” Eilith whispered, feeling his own heart beat fast, and he could feel Taranis’s heart beat faster too since his head was pressed against his chest. “I only want to be yours.” Somehow he almost wanted to cry. He knew he wasn’t lying. He wasn’t just saying it because he was trying to get the young wolf on his side. He knew if he hadn’t been captured they never would have met, and even if they had he would have thought he was a monster because that was what he used to believe. But he felt good in his arms, he felt happy. And Taranis was why Seth was born, and Eilith loved his son so much, even if he’d once been terrified of giving birth to him. And, if only they could have gone away, he was sure Taranis would have taken care of him and Seth and maybe they would have been happy together.

His eyes were full of tears when Taranis’s knot shrunk down and he could finally pull out. The wolf kissed him gently and wiped his tears, hugging him tightly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scold you,” Taranis murmured, and Eilith shook his head.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

Eilith hesitated. He didn’t want him to get mad. Maybe he should have just lied or insisted it was nothing.

“I want to be yours. I’d do anything you want, if you just… if we went away…”

“Eilith, we can’t do that,” Taranis replied sternly.

Eilith sniffled, his shoulders shaking with sobs, and Taranis sighed again.

“I’m not strong enough to take care of you and Seth. I’m just an omega. And you belong to Wotan.” His tone softened but there was a bitterness in his words, especially that last sentence.

“I-I know, but I–”

Eilith choked up, unable to continue.

_I love you._

It wasn’t the first time he thought that, but it was the first time it almost slipped out. Was it the truth then? Did he truly love Taranis? He wasn’t even sure he knew what it meant to love someone, until he had Seth. Now he knew how he felt, but did he feel that way just because Taranis was kind to him, just because he was the only one to treat him like a person? Would he feel the same if they went away from the pack, or if he… if he could somehow go back to his father?

_“You don’t think the omega actually cares about you, do you, slut? He’s just glad he can finally fuck someone.”_

Wotan’s words echoed in his head. He didn’t want to believe them, he wanted to think that Taranis did care. He was kind to him and Eilith knew that he wanted him, but maybe that was all. Maybe he was not that important to him.

If Taranis had been the alpha instead of Wotan, would he still be just the pack slut? Would Taranis have someone else, someone like Navilis at his side, as his true mate?

“I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice, letting the wolf pet his hair and stroke his back, trying to still enjoy the moment. But the warmth and happiness he felt before were gone, replaced by a melanchonic sorrow.


	9. Day #9 - Exhibitionism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This ninth story contains: Creampie. Fantastic Racism, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, Teasing, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Slavery, Interracial (By Fantasy Standards), Bukkake, Dirty Talk, Mentions of bestiality, light humiliation, a VERY light mention of MPreg
> 
> \+ technically age difference but not very relevant to the story
> 
> The pairing is: M/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "exhibitionism"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the extreme delay, this one was particularly difficult. Also because it came out much longer than the others, it's not even a "ficlet" orz (5000 words...)
> 
> The characters in this story also appear in my series [The Touch of Wolfsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647925), which is based on a roleplay with ForgottenLoveSong

It wasn’t the first time Kannin ventured in that town, but this time he had a different company. His servant and apprentice, Theadus, came with him to help him sell his potions. Together with them was also one of his creatures, a large, black hairless feline with glowing yellow eyes and a venomous bite. He was there so that no one got any strange ideas, particularly while he briefly left Theadus alone at his stand to go visit the other ones. He didn’t yet trust the younger elf enough to let him wander on his own, for several reasons.

One of the reasons was, a pureblood elf was an uncommon sight around there. That town was not under command nor did business with elves. In fact, it was full of people of all races, including half-orcs and half-elves as well as more uncommon ones that Kannin could bet Theadus had never even seen before. Given the penchant for elves to mistrust other races and hate half-bloods, they were not usually welcome there.

If the odd looks and whispers from people around town hadn’t been enough, the reaction they got when they went into the biggest inn – The Salty Mermaid – spoke for itself. All eyes were on them, or rather on Theadus, and when they sat at one of the table and Kannin ordered drinks, the halfling who served them looked like she’d eaten a sour lemon until the alchemist clarified that Theadus was his property, forcing him to raise his head and expose his neck to show off the markings.

“Why is everyone looking at me like that?” Theadus asked, annoyed and maybe a little scared. They had to leave the creature – Midnight, as Kannin had called it – outside so they no longer had the extra protection.

“You’re an elf. They don’t like your kind. You know, because elves tend to kill, persecute and enslave a lot of their friends,” Kannin pointed out, thanking the halfling when she came back with some mead. She still threw an unfriendly glance at Theadus as she put the cup in front of him, before going away.

Kannin had ordered a whole bottle, so he poured some of it for the both of them. He talked to him, mostly about their work and what to do next, but he also offered to buy him new clothes. “It’ll be cold soon. I’d like to find some dragon skin boots, or some enchanted ones, but they’re going to be expensive. Especially here. Since it’s a port, there’s a lot of tourists so everyone hikes up the price of their merch.” It was why he’d been able to sell even a simple cure for seasickness for a high price.

He was absorbed in explaining some of the history of the town to him, when he saw someone approaching from the corner of his eye. He still kept on talking, but kept his guard high. Soon enough, a group of five came to sit down at the same table. There still was an empty one, a bigger one in fact, so it wasn’t a matter of lack of space. Kannin stopped talking, smiling at them, but one of his hands went down to his waist where he kept his dagger.

“You don’t mind if we sit here, do you?” one of them said, smiling back at Kannin as he sat right in front of him. A tall man with long red dreadlocks and a beard. His skin was pale and sunburned and his eyes were the color of aquamarine. Next to him was a half-orc with a missing eye, a long scar spanning from above his eyebrow to his jaw. His remaining eye was amber and his hair was dark, almost black, tightly braided and tied up into a ponytail. He glanced at Kannin for a second, then his eye moved to Theadus. Then there was a second half-orc, with the same hair and eye color, perhaps his brother. Shorter than him, but broader in built. He was also looking at the elf.

“The more, the merrier,” Kannin replied, raising his glass and drinking, looking unperturbed even when the two remaining members of the group walked around to sit on his same bench. Another human, this one dark-skinned and much leaner than his friend, but almost as tall. His head was shaved bald and he had vibrant green eyes, which went back and forth between Kannin and Theadus. His arms were covered in tattoos. The last one, instead, was a dark elf. A very unusual sight, even more unusual than a regular elf. They lived far from there and, much like the light ones, they didn’t usually like to mingle with other races. Unlike the light ones, they preferred to not get involved and isolated themselves. He had long silver braids with gold accents and his ears were studded with gold and gems. His violet eyes were also focused on Theadus.

By the time the halfling from before came back to get their order, they had all introduced themselves. The redhead was named Dunstan. The two half-orcs were indeed brothers, named Bojan and Davor. The dark-skinned human was called Menes, while the dark-skinned elf’s name was Balryn. Kannin of course introduced himself as well.

“My name is Kannin. This here is my slave.”

Theadus frowned. “I have a name. I’m Theadus”

Kannin shot him a warning glare, but the stupid elf rolled his eyes. Damn him. He really didn’t understand anything. The alchemist couldn’t quite explain that it was best for him to hold his head low and play the part of the obedient slave, not when everyone there could hear him.

Dunstan let out a rumbling laugh. “Some slave you got there. _Theadus_ , huh. Not much of an elf name.”

Kannin nearly shoved Theadus’s cup in his mouth before he could even _try_ to say anything.

“Of course. I renamed him. He used to have one of those shitty, unpronounceable elvish names. I didn’t care for it,” he lied, letting out a laugh of his own before sipping some more mead.

“Is he really your slave?” Bojan asked, sounding skeptical.

Kannin shrugged.

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

The half-orc scoffed. “Never seen a half-elf owning an elf.”

Kannin sneered at him. “What, you think he’s my _friend_ or something?” he asked in a mocking tone, as if the mere thought was ridiculous. “I bought him from a trader. Not the most well-trained slave, I’m afraid. That orc bastard swindled me but, oh well, he comes in handy. Even if he _doesn’t know when to shut his mouth_.” He glared at Theadus again. The elf glared back, but this time he at least had the common sense not to reply. Although he wanted to. Oh, Kannin could see how much he wanted to. There’d be plenty of bitching and moaning once they were alone in their room, he had no doubt about that.

“Must have costed a small fortune,” Dunstan noted. “Not easy to afford, for someone like you. What is it that you do?”

Kannin didn’t look offended. He wasn’t going to let that boor ruffle his feathers. He was used to it, and to his credit the human did have a point. Half-elves weren’t welcome in many places, so it wasn’t common for them to have high-ranking occupations.

“I’m an alchemist. I make and sell potions. Sometimes ingredients too.” He gestured vaguely towards Dunstan. “Could do something for your skin, you know. I’ve got a good healing salve, and a coating to protect you from the sun,” he offered, eyeing him carefully. “You’re a sailor, aren’t you? Do you all come from the same ship?”

“That’s right. We came here for a quick stop. We’re headed East. Didn’t think we’d be seeing any elves in this place, not full elves at least.” He glanced at Theadus and smirked. “They really are as pretty as they say, huh. Is it a girl or a boy? I can’t quite tell.”

“He’s a male,” Balryn chimed in. He was staring at Theadus intensely, as if he was evaluating him. “Very young. Barely a century, maybe less.” Kannin wondered how old _he_ was. A couple centuries at least, but less than a thousand years. When it came to elves, light or otherwise, it was practically impossible to tell for sure unless they were very young or old.

“ _Barely_ a century.” Dunstan laughed again. “You damn pointy-ears and your sense of time… I’ll be lucky if I even _live_ to see a century.”

Once again, the halfling came back with drinks. The sailors paused to grab their drinks and pay for them. Kannin glanced to Theadus, who seemed quite nervous. He could have taken the chance to ask about renting a room and leave with him, taking the rest of the mead upstairs. He was curious, however, and he didn’t feel threatened by the group. They didn’t seem hostile, just intrigued by his companion. Kannin suspected there was a reason why they approached him, beyond the chance to ogle a pretty elf.

The conversation shifted, and Kannin took the chance to ask about their travels. He mostly ignored Theadus, who would surely get even more pissed at him for it once they were away from that, but he’d worry about that later. Slaves didn’t get involved in a conversation unless specifically asked to. He’d have to talk some sense into him and explain him how things worked around there.

Finally, after an hour or so, Dunstan stopped beating around the bush and confirmed Kannin’s suspicions.

“Say, that pretty elf of yours. Theodore, was it?”

“Theadus,” Kannin gently corrected him before his slave could. His hand went down to grasp the elf’s hand and briefly squeeze it from under the table. “What about him?”

“It really is a boy, isn’t it? Kind of a shame, but… well, I’ve never been with an elf. I don’t mind that he’s a male if he’s that pretty. We’ve made quite some coin selling our wares, so we were wondering if you could sell it to us.”

Kannin saw Theadus stiffen, and the furious glare he threw at the human was hard to miss. Thankfully, Dunstan only laughed in response.

“I’m afraid he’s not for sale. He might be untrained and have no manners, but he’s still useful to me. He’s a good assistant. And…” he grinned, wrapping his arm around Theadus and pulling him in closer. “…he looks even prettier with my cock in his ass.”

“You bas-” Kannin slapped his hand on his mouth before he could finish, his curses turning into angry muffled sounds.

Dunstan eyed the elf with a perverted smirk on his face.

“Oh, I can imagine. But, I think I didn’t explain myself well. We don’t mean to take him away with us. Just to buy him for one night. Fuck it, not even the entire night. One turn each. How much coin for that?”

Kannin thought about it. He could tell Theadus was fuming even if he couldn’t speak, from the way he struggled to try and slip away from his grasp. Maybe, if he’d been more cooperative, Kannin would have rejected them firmly. But the alchemist felt that his slave earned himself a proper punishment. He carefully evaluated his words before replying.

“I can’t let you do that. Elves can get pregnant, quite easily in fact. I’m planning to breed him, so it would be a pain if he got stuck with one of your brats for nine months. And then, there’d be the problem of the kid. A half-elf can be sold. A mixed light and dark elf too, sure. But a half-elf and part-orc kid? Not fucking likely.” He ignored the very pissed elf who was now trying to bite his hand, and murmured an ancient elvish word to activate the curse he’d put on him, forcing him to collapse against him, unable to keep struggling or even to speak. “That said, I understand your curiosity and I’ve appreciated your company. So I say, you pay for our room and I’ll let you come and watch. Maybe play with him, a little. But you won’t fuck him.”

“Not even his mouth?” Davor asked, licking his lips.

“You can watch us, or you can leave us. That’s my offer,” Kannin insisted.

The group exchanged looks, and a couple hurried whispers. Finally, they all turned to Dunstan, who laughed and shook his head.

“Oh, well. It’s a cheap price, and I understand your worries. We’ll accept.”

Kannin grinned back to him.

“You won’t regret it.”

Kannin placed Theadus on the large bed before deactivating the spell. Almost immediately, the elf jumped up and tried to attack him with a loud yell, hitting him with his fists. Kannin easily dodged him and grasped on his wrists, all the while Theadus kept insulting him and yelling at him.

“You bastard half-wit! Pervert! Don’t come near me!”

Dunstan and the others laughed, standing around the bed and surrounding them.

“He really has no manners,” Menes said. His voice was very deep and he spoke with a heavy accent that Kannin had heard before, but couldn’t quite place. “Maybe he doesn’t get enough discipline.”

“He’s a feisty one. But I don’t mind taming wild beasts,” Kannin replied, pushing Theadus down and holding his wrists above his head with one hand, using his weight to press him against the mattress. He was half-hard, which gained him more insults and accusations of being a pervert. He grasped on Theadus’s face, holding it still as he leaned in close to whisper against his ear. “You remember our deal. You swore to be obedient, didn’t you? Or have you already forgot?”

Theadus growled and kept squirming for a few moments, glaring at him, but then he gave in and pressed his lips together, face red in anger.

“As you wish, _Master.”_ He spat out that last word as sarcastically as he could.

Kannin grinned and loosened his grip, letting go of him and sitting up, his knees at the sides of Theadus’s waist while part of his weight still rested on the elf’s legs.

“Good boy. Let’s give our friends a fun show.”

He took off his shirt, tossing it to the side, then untied the laces in the front of his trousers. He moved up and sat on the other end of the bed, his back against the wall. Now they were all in a circle around Theadus, who was still laying down with his arms up and his face scrunched up in anger.

“Get up, and take off your clothes. All of them,” Kannin ordered him. “Do it slow. Unless you’re impatient to be fucked?” He grinned, provoking him on purpose.

Theadus glared at him again. Oh, he was mad. But he would do as he was asked, because of the deal. Kannin had promised not to harm his so-called friend, the prince, and in exchange Theadus would not fight his orders. But that didn’t mean he was going to act nice about it.

Kannin watched with interest as Theadus untied his shirt, hands trembling slightly. He wasn’t sure of whether it was from anger or because the elf was intimidated about being seen by those strangers. His visible eye kept darting around, he was watching them with suspicion rather than fury. He especially seemed wary of the two half-orcs.

The elf slowly took his shirt off, pulling it from his back and unrolling it, placing it aside rather than tossing it like Kannin did. He was turned away from him so Kannin could see his back, the white skin unmarred by scars, unlike his. The alchemist wanted to reach out and touch it, but he held back. He’d be patient.

Next came the shoes and the trousers. They were of leather, quite tight but they went almost all the way down to his ankles. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, so once he pulled them down his ass and cock were exposed, then his thighs and the rest of his legs. His skin was a light cream color, almost glowing. His hair the color of gold. It was clear at first sight he was a pure elf, he looked just like the perfect image of what most thought when they said the word, except for his mismatched eyes. He was incredibly beautiful, and there was a dark part inside of Kannin that was jealous of it, that wanted to ruin that beauty.

Theadus sat down on the bed, legs folded to cover himself, arms crossed on his chest. He wasn’t used to being seen. He might have been little more than a glorified servant, but he still grew up with the same elven ideals of modesty.

Kannin crawled closer, leaning in to whisper against his ear.

“Why are you covering yourself? They want to see you,” he told him, taking his arms and making him put them behind himself, making him arch his back, then putting his hands on his thighs to force him to spread his legs. He let him lean against his chest and felt him tremble. He kissed his neck, making him shiver and flush, this time from embarrassment and maybe from pleasure.

In front of them, Dunstan was undoing his belt and opening the front of his trousers to pull out his cock. Kannin could see and hear all the others do the same. Looking down between Theadus’s legs, he was surprised to see he was growing hard as well. He had barely touched him. Was he that sensitive? Or…

“Do you like being watched?” he asked, both curious and amused.

“Screw-”. Theadus bit his tongue, turning redder. “O-of course I don’t!”

“But you’re getting hard, just from being watched,” Kannin insisted. “Look, everyone’s staring at you. They all want you. See how hard they are already? They all think you’re beautiful.”

Theadus stiffened for a moment, looking down at the men as they leisurely started stroking themselves, at their cocks of different shapes and sizes but all of them hard just like Kannin said. When Kannin brought one hand between the elf’s legs and touched him, he too was just as hard.

“I didn’t know an elf could be so perverted,” Kannin teased him, caressing his length with the tip of his fingers but without closing them around it and stroking it. Instead, he moved his hand to caress the inside of his thighs, still using just his fingertips, while the other went to caress his stomach and moved up to his chest. “Did you fantasize about this sort of thing while you were still in the palace? Did you imagine your prince or maybe the king himself, fucking you on the balcony he gives speeches from, in front of all of your people? Or maybe you fantasized about being punished by the royal guards, locked in a pillory and fucked by all of them in the public square?”

“I’m not a pervert like you,” Theadus snapped back, sounding flustered more than offended. He was breathing faster, and when Kannin’s rough fingers brushed one of his nipples he couldn’t hold back a soft moan.

“If you’re not, then how come you’re so hard?” Kannin kissed his neck and moved his thumb in circles against his nipple until it stiffened, pinching it and rolling it between his fingers, while he forced him to spread his legs more and lift his hips, making him sit on his lap. He gave the men a good view of his ass as his hand moved to pull the skin around his pink hole, spreading it slightly “You’re a perverted, slutty elf who loves to be watched. I bet you can’t wait to be fucked in front of all these people you’ve never even met before. You know they’ll remember this, they’ll tell everyone on their ship about the elven slut who moaned like a bitch while they watched him get his ass pounded by an half-elf. They’ll masturbate thinking about my cock in your ass and how much they’d wanted it to be theirs. They’ll think of you on their ship, bent over and getting fuck by all of their crew. Or maybe fucked by one of the monsters that live in the sea, like a merman or a cecaelia, while all of them watch…”

“S-shut up, you damn half-wit,” Theadus grunted, shivering and moaning when Kannin licked his ear and sucked on its tip. He was squirming in his lap, but rather than to get away it was because he couldn’t help himself, the teasing was too much and he clearly wanted more. His hands were clenched into fists and he kept his arms to his sides, maybe to hold back from trying to stop Kannin or, the alchemist suspected, to hold back from touching himself.

“Maybe I should have fucked you on the table, in front of everyone there. I bet the owner wouldn’t mind. A good show for his customers, all for free. Maybe I should ask him if we can do that, tomorrow, so everyone can get a good look,” Kannin continued to feed him his fantasies, enjoying the way Theadus got more and more flustered with every word. His cock was even leaking precum and Kannin still hadn’t touched it again, instead he kept teasing his hole and stroking his perineum. “If we can’t do that, then we’ll find a good spot outside for our perverted show. It’d be perfect, cause then we could get Midnight to fuck you too. Let everyone see you cum from the cock of a beast. You’d be the talk of the town. Everyone would look at you and know you’re a shameless elf bitch who loves cock.”

Theadus would have protested, maybe, but Kannin’s hand finally grasped his cock and he cried out loud, moving his hips to try to thrust himself against it. That meant he also rubbed himself against Kannin, who couldn’t help but let out a low moan of his own. He too was hard and very aroused, he wasn’t exactly an exhibitionism but the thought that the beautiful elf had such an unexpected depraved side was exciting to him. He loved to see Theadus losing himself to pleasure. He was going to make him forget all about those stupid elven teachings about modesty and decency. He was going to teach him to listen to his body, instead.

“You want it, don’t you? You want to be fucked while these men watch.” Kannin kissed him before Theadus could reply. There was a moment of resistance, then the other’s lips parted and he caressed his tongue with his, playing with his nipples and slowly stroking his cock, spreading precum from the tip all over its length. He could hear and feel him moan into the kiss, and one hand went to grasp his brown hair, as if to hold him there. The other went to his wrist, trying to make him move his hand faster, but instead Kannin let go and pulled back from the kiss at the same time.

“Not yet. I won’t let you cum so easily,” he murmured, pushing two fingers past Theadus’s lips and rubbing them against his tongue, grinning when the elf understood and started sucking and licking on them. He had to make him lay down so that he could move to kiss his chest and lick his nipples, taking one of the pillows and placing it under his lower back to keep his ass raised for their public. He took his time licking and sucking on one nipple, using his free hand to tease the other, pinching and lightly pulling on it and sometimes tweaking it. Theadus was moaning out loud, the sound muffled by the fingers in his mouth, and his hips were still moving as if he could somehow find relief by thrusting them into the air, his cock twitching and dripping precum, his little hole clenching and unclenching.

When Kannin finally felt like his fingers were wet enough, he pulled them out of Theadus’s mouth, a small thread of saliva sticking to them as he did so. He stopped the assault on his nipples so that he could focus on his ass, pressing the first of his slicked fingers against his entrance. He was ready to use his mouth on the elf’s cock if he found resistance, but his ass swallowed it up with ease and Theadus moaned again, moving his hips as soon as Kannin tried to thrust his finger in and out of him, quickly adding the second one. He found his prostate and rubbed it from the inside, watching as Theadus grasped on the sheets and pushed his feet against the mattress, his legs folded but spread open, his thighs trembling slightly. His chest and face were flushed and his visible eye was clouded with pleasure. Kannin caught him glancing to the sides, looking at the men who were stroking themselves faster now, panting and some of them even groaning in pleasure.

“You can touch him if you want to,” Kannin suggested, and immediately one of the two half-orcs went to touch his soft golden hair, stroking it and wrapping it around his thick fingers. The other touched his thigh, groping it and caressing it with an unexpected gentleness. The redheaded man licked his fingers, then he started to tease his already-hard nipples, rubbing then in circles and pressing down, pinching them and scraping lightly with his short nails. The dark elf leaned in to suck and lick on one of his ears, nibbling on his earlobe and suckling on the tip. The other human, instead, went to grasp his leg and lick it from the pit under his knee to his ankle and then down to his foot, sucking and licking on his fingers.

“Ah! No… no I’ll…” Theadus tried to protest, moaning even louder and squirming helplessly at their mercy, shaking his hips and squeezing down on his fingers as his orgasm approached. “S-stop! No, it’s too- I can’t!”

Kannin had meant to only make him cum from his cock, but that was too fun to stop. Seeing Theadus trying so desperately to hold back only made him want to drive him over the edge. So he moved in to lick and suck on his balls, occasionally teasing his length with a long, slow lick, but without focusing on his cock for too long. The poor elf was so close that his precum dripped on Kannin’s face, and none of the men who played with his body had any mercy on him.

“I didn’t know elves had such slutty bodies,” Dunstan said with a laugh, pinching his nipples more harshly so that Theadus cried out even louder, making more precum squirt out of his cock.

“Maybe light ones do,” Balryn replied, blowing lightly against Theadus’s wet ear before dipping his tongue inside his canal. “Feels good, slut? You can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Are you cumming, bitch?” Davor asked, still eagerly groping his sensitive thighs. “Show us your slutty cum face.”

“I can smell it, you know. You’ve got the scent of a bitch in heat,” Bojan told him, looking down on him, rubbing his cock so close to Theadus’s face that he could certainly smell it. “I bet I could make you scream. I bet you’d love my cock so much you’d cum your brains out.”

“Go ahead and cum, you whore. Give us a good performance,” Menes added.

All of them were staring at him with hungry eyes, including Kannin, who said nothing but kept on teasing his sensitive spots, grinning as he recognized the signs of the imminent orgasm.

“No, no, that’s not- please no,” Theadus kept begging, but he could barely speak from how much he was moaning and panting, and his hips kept on moving faster and faster in response to Kannin’s fingering, one of his hands grasping on Dunstan’s strong arm while the other tried to grab Balryn’s braids. He was sweating and his hair was messy, and rather than turning his head away to try and escape the dark elf’s tongue he still tried his best to hide his mismatched eye.

He came with a keening moan, arching up and spraying his release all over Kannin’s face and hair, his insides spasming around his fingers as if they were trying to milk them. Even when he finally collapsed, panting and twitching from the aftereffects of his orgasm, they all kept on teasing him while he whined and begged for mercy.

Kannin let them have their fun for a little more, pulling out his fingers and briefly getting up to retrieve his bag, taking out a small towel to wipe himself clean and then a vial with an oily substance, a simple lubricant with a very mild aphrodisiac effect.

“Leave him to me,” he said, and finally the men got down from the bed and went back to stand all around them.

Theadus was almost crying from the overstimulation. Kannin had wanted to make him ride his cock, but he wouldn’t have the strength now. Instead, he made him turn on his side and lifted one his legs, coating his cock in lubricant before pushing it inside him, all the way in with a single thrust. Theadus whined again, but he didn’t struggle. He cried out with every thrust, especially when Kannin found the right angle to stroke his prostate as he fucked him. He could have made it last longer, but he was sure the others were close too.

“Try to cum on him, and not on the sheets,” Kannin told them, shaking his hips faster and groaning in pleasure as Theadus’s ass squeezed his cock like it had done with his fingers. The elf’s whimpering was turning back into moans and his cock was slowly growing hard again. Kannin wrapped his hand around it and stroked it, trying to go at the same rhythm at his thrusts.

The half-orcs were the first to cum, almost at the same time, climbing back on the bed to spray their seed on Theadus’s hair and on his thigh. Dunstan came on his face, while Balryn aimed for the same ear he had tormented before. Finally, Menes came on his chest.

Kannin tried to hold back to see if he could make Theadus cum again, but eventually he too was too close. “I’m cumming, elf! Take it all!”

He came inside him, thrusting wildly until every drop was spilled out, and one of his thrusts finally sent Theadus over the edge again and made him cum, spraying his seed on his own stomach and on the sheets.

Everyone took some time to recover, panting and catching their breath. The men put their cocks back in their trousers and thanked Kannin, some of them leaving Theadus with some last parting words.

“Our captain will love this story,” Dunstan said with a wide grin. “It’ll be popular with the whole crew. You’ll be a famous little elf.”

“So the light ones are not so pure and chaste after all,” Balryn said instead.

Kannin pulled out and waited for everyone to leave, before making Theadus lay on his back again. He’d have to bring him to the bathroom before he could drip semen all over the sheets. The last thing he wanted was to sleep in a bed encrusted with sailor cum.

He brushed some hair away from his face, chuckling when he saw his expression. The poor elf was too dazed to be upset. No doubt he’d get his wits back after a good bath, and then the insults would come. Kannin could almost already hear him. But, for the time being, he looked peaceful and almost cute.

“Come on, time to get washed. I’ll carry you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was supposed to be a small scene after the sex but I didn't have time + it already was way too long. To sum it up, Kannin was going to have to calm down a very upset Theadus, explaining him the reasons why he acted the way he did (aside from the offer to let the guys watch, which was 110% him being a jackass) as showing too much leniency to an elven slave would seem suspicious, especially from an half-elf. 
> 
> Particularly, the comment on selling off Theadus's children was completely fictitious as his whole argument regarding the chance of pregnancy was an excuse to not allow the sailors to fuck him, as he, well, basically suspected that being sailors they'd be prone to do a lot of sleeping around with prostitutes and not being too clean.


	10. Day #10 - Overstimulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This first story contains: Creampie, Anal Sex, Teasing, Samurai, Age Difference, Master/Pupil Relationship, Overstimulation, Consensual, Switching, Japanese Inspired Setting, Mixed Race Protagonist, Light Angst, Pseudo-Historical Setting
> 
> The pairing is: M/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "overstimulation"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by a roleplay (basically a backstory for one of the characters), it does not play into the story but the setting is actually historical fantasy as there are shapeshifting merpeople

It had been a long day of training. By the time he retreated into his master’s house, Keisuke was tired and a little sore.

However, as soon as he saw the shoes placed by the entrance, his heart raced and he kicked off his sandals, dashing inside.

“Master!” he called out. “Master Murakami!” He rushed through the house, sliding the doors open so violently the paper nearly ripped. “Mas-”

The glint of a blade alerted him of the danger, but too late. By the time he drew his sword, the other man had already grabbed him and pressed his sword against his neck.

“Keisuke,” Murakami’s stern voice scolded him, yet the warm breath against his ear made him shiver for a much different reason. “I’m disappointed. What did I always tell you?”

“Never… never lower my guard,” Keisuke replied, feeling ashamed. “I’m sorry. I was excited to see you. I’ve missed you.”

“I could have been an enemy. You would have been dead” The sword pressed harder against his throat, enough to lightly scrape his skin. “Let this be your lesson for today.”

The blade hissed as it was drawn back, sliding into its sheath. The older man didn’t let go of him, but rather his grasp loosened and his hold turned into a gentle embrace. Keisuke relaxed and placed his arms above his master’s.

“I’ve missed you as well, Kei-chan,” Murakami told him. His tone was soft, wistful. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner.”

“You should have brought me with you,” Keisuke replied, and he couldn’t help but sound a little annoyed. “I’m old enough, aren’t I?”

“It is not how old you are. It’s whether you’re ready.” Murakami let go of him, walking until he was in front of him. His brown eyes met Keisuke’s blue ones. “You’re still too impatient. Too reckless.”

Keisuke would have wanted to complain, but his master had just proven his point to him with his actions, any words of assurance that it was not the case would have been weak in comparison. He sighed. One day, he would travel together with his master. Learn more of the outside world. The same from which his mother came from.

He did not have many memories of her. Lydia. He remembered her warm, pale hands and long blonde hair. Her eyes, the same ocean blue eyes, often filled with sorrow. She sang songs in a language his father could not understand. She stuck out, getting odd looks whenever they went. She never quite belonged there. And, one day, she poisoned herself with the same medicine she used to cure others.

He remembered she spoke fondly of her homeland. Far from there. A land with different traditions, a land where women could learn to heal and lead a country and sometimes even fight. A land where foreigners were not an oddity, where merchants came from all over the world, where it was not so hard to do as you wished and not as you were expected to. Perhaps that place only existed in her memories, rose-tinted with nostalgia. Yet, Keisuke wished to see that land with his own eyes.

It was not just that. His master was the only one who truly accepted him. The only one Keisuke truly felt comfortable sharing his thoughts with, even if they did not always agree. He always felt lonely when they were apart.

“Your clothes, they are damp with sweat,” Murakami said. “Were you training?”

“Of course. Do you wish to see?”

His master smiled. “Not today. I am tired from the travel. I came here to leave my things, then I will go to the hot springs. Do you wish to come?”

Keisuke’s eyes lit up. “That sounds wonderful.”

Murakami nodded.

“Then it is decided.”

Keisuke had almost dozed off by the time Murakami came into their room. He sat up and grasped on his sword, relaxing when he recognized the man.

Murakami chuckled. “You remember your lesson.” He had not changed into his clothes yet. A white towel was wrapped around his waist, and he was holding a tray with a bottle and two small cups.

“Drink with me.”

They each filled the other’s cup and sipped on the clear liquor. Keisuke’s eyes lingered on his master’s body. On the drops of water that trickled down his chest, along his abdomen, finally disappearing into his towel. His hair was graying, but his body was strong and firm.

Murakami caught him watching and smirked. Keisuke blushed, but did not look away.

“You still look at me with such eyes. You’re a grown man now, you should turn those eyes to someone younger than me… or so I should tell you.” Murakami sighed. “And yet, I would still wish to draw my sword against anyone else who dared to touch my pupil, young or old.”

“My body is that of a man, but my heart still yearns for his teacher. I am yours, master. My beloved master,” Keisuke replied, moving in closer and resting his hand against the man’s chest, above his heart. He leaned in to kiss him, but Murakami turned his head. Frustrated, Keisuke pushed him down on the tatami and climbed above him, sitting in his lap.

“If you do not take me, I will take you,” he told him, frowning when his master laughed at him.

“You speak to me like I’m a shy young maiden. You truly are a man, _Kei-chan_.”

Before he knew it, the man grasped on his hips with his legs and toppled him to the side, then he pushed him down and pressed him against the tatami.

“But, there is still much I have to teach you. Do not be so cocky as to believe I’d let you lead the way.”

Murakami’s hand pulled on the loosely wrapped sash around his waist until it slipped off of him, then slid his hand inside Keisuke’s kimono. The younger man gasped when he felt his rough palm against his chest, his fingers brushing against his nipple.

“Master,” he cried out softly, turning his head to look at him, begging him with his eyes.

Murakami sighed again, but finally leaned in to capture Keisuke’s lips into a slow, intimate kiss, pulling him closer and opening the front of his kimono. His hand moved down along Keisuke’s body, making him shiver as he reached past his pubes, ignoring his growing arousal to caress one of his milky-white thighs, digging his fingers into the soft skin.

“You’ll be begging me to stop,” the man threatened as soon as their lips parted. Rather than feeling afraid, Keisuke’s heart raced and he grasped on Murakami’s hair.

“If you don’t get tired faster, old man,” he teased.

Murakami scoffed. “Shameless, impudent child. It is decided. I will not stop, even if you cry.”

The man knelt above him, while Keisuke lay down and smiled, his arms and his legs spread. He was not ashamed of his body. He wanted his master to look. When he noticed his arousal pressing against the fabric of the towel, his smile widened.

“How many have you embraced, while you awaited?” Murakami asked, his hands roaming from Keisuke’s stomach to his chest, then up to his shoulders, caressing him with only his fingertips. One hand trailed along his neck and reached his face, stroking his cheek, his thumb pressing against Keisuke’s lips.

“No one, master,” he replied, earnestly. His body shivered, yearning for his master’s touch, his skin covering in goosebumps. He wanted more. This was just teasing. “I still only know your embrace. I do not care for another.”

Murakami’s expression was confusing to him. His eyes lit up for a moment, his lips curving into a smirk, but then he frowned.

“I have lain with a woman,” he confessed.

Keisuke knew it shouldn’t have upset him, but he still looked away from him, biting his lip and clenching his fists.

“You too should learn the touch of a woman,” Murakami continued, stroking his face and his hair, and Keisuke did not want to sigh and lean into his touch but he couldn’t help it.

“I have no desire for it. A woman’s touch would not feel as wonderful as yours,” he replied, looking back at him. There was hurt in his eyes, even if he knew it was unwarranted. His master still looked at him like he was a precious thing. Keisuke understood what he was saying, but he did not care for it. “Your hands, they made me what I am. No one else’s would know my body as well as yours. I would not crave for their touch in the same way. I would not lay awake and think of them at night.”

“I cannot be yours forever, and I can’t allow you to be mine,” Murakami insisted, sounding stern but also wistful. “Kei-chan, if I could forever bind you to me, if I could make it so that you would never look at another with those eyes, my heart would desire for nothing more than to cast that spell on you. Yet I would not do it, because I am your master, and I must teach you the right way.”

Keisuke’s eyes were wet with tears. Murakami brushed them away with his thumbs as they spilled, leaning down to kiss him. Keisuke’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, holding him tightly. His master was right and he did not like it.

“I will not hear another word,” he said when they lips parted. “I love you. I have missed you too much. I do not want to think of when our paths will bring us apart.”

“I remind myself as much as you,” Murakami replied. “I do not like to think of it. I am selfish. I am weak to my desires. That woman, she had your eyes, blue like the ocean. Your long black hair. She had your pale, white skin. I lay with her, and I still saw you. But she did not look at me like you, she did not feel like you. It only made the longing stronger.”

Keisuke smirked, even knowing he should not be rejoicing. Emboldened, he brought his hand down to pull at his master’s towel, tossing it aside and then finding his arousal. He caressed it slowly, tracing its length, touching it as if he wanted to memorize its shape. He felt elated when Murakami gasped, his breath growing heavier.

“You said I will beg you to stop.”

Murakami kissed him again. “That you will do.”

His hands went down to Keisuke’s thighs, spreading them open. He moved down to kiss them, all the way from the fold of his knees to his hipbones, licking at the curve of his groin, breathing against his hardening length without touching it.

Keisuke grasped on his hair, panting and gasping, shivering from every kiss, every little touch. His master’s hand brushed his pubic hair and his wrist lightly grazed his arousal, but whenever Keisuke tried to shift his hips to meet his touch or push the man’s head closer to his length, Murakami just avoided it.

By the time Keisuke was fully hard, Murakami moved on to kiss his stomach, licking along the very faint trail of hairs in the middle of his abdomen, dipping his tongue into his navel, sucking and kissing his skin and leaving bright red marks on it. He reached his chest and covered it in more marks, while Keisuke’s hard length pressed against his master’s stomach in that pose.

“Master…” Keisuke cried out softly, gasping loudly when the man’s mouth closed on one of his nipples, his warm tongue moving in circles and his teeth teasing it, lightly biting on it. When his master sucked on it, Keisuke moaned out loud and wrapped his arms around his back, grasping on his hair and his shoulder.

Murakami’s promise sounded absurd to Keisuke. He could not imagine ever asking him to stop. He could never get enough of his master’s touch. If anything, he wanted more. It was not enough, he was just being teased, he would never climax like that.

Rather than giving him what he wanted, Murakami continued to lick and kiss all over his chest, focusing on his nipples, then he went on to do the same with his arms, from the hollow of his armpits to the tip of his fingers, taking two of them into his mouth and sucking gently on them, then kissing his palm.

“Master!” Keisuke cried out again, with more urgency. The man only moved on to kiss and lick at his collarbone and neck, teeth lightly grazing his Adam’s apple, then those lips were on his ear and the man sucked and nibbled on his earlobe, before trailing his tongue along the outer shell and lightly dipping it into his canal. Keisuke could feel his arousal brushing against his own, so he shifted his hips and tried to rub them together, bringing a hand down to stroke them, but Murakami grabbed his wrist and moved it away.

“You torment me,” Keisuke complained.

“Patience has never been your strength,” Murakami replied, brushing his knuckles against Keisuke’s cheek. “I won’t let you rush it today. I will touch you for every day I was unable to. I will hold you until the sun rises again.”

Keisuke swallowed hard. Those words made his heart race. He wrapped his arms around him again and kissed him. Murakami kissed him back, allowing him to move his hips against his, to let their lengths touch and rub together, and when the kiss ended his master joked about their ‘swords’ crossing again, making them both laugh.

From that moment on, his master continued to tease his body without letting him finish. When Keisuke’s movements grew more frantic, his arousal slicked with precum, Murakami moved away and went to pick a jar of massage oil. Keisuke expected him to prepare him with it, but instead Murakami poured it in his hand and started to spread it all over his body, his hands sliding along his skin and giving him a different sensation, weird but not unwelcome.

He whined when the man insisted on his hard nipples, rubbing his palms and knuckles against them while Keisuke squirmed and moaned. He was made to turn to the side and his thighs were slicked with oil, before Murakami pushed his hard length between them and made him push them together, lazily moving his hips to enjoy the soft feel of his skin, spreading more of the oil underneath Keisuke’s own length and his sac as his shaft rubbed against the underside of his lover’s arousal.

“Master, master, please,” Keisuke called out, whining in frustration whenever he tried to touch himself or Murakami only for the other to stop him and hold him down, continuing to play with his body as he pleased.

When he was made to lie down, his face and chest against the tatami, his knees spread apart and his hips lifted up, he cried out in delight as he finally felt his master’s oiled up fingers slip inside of him. Once again, however, it was a slow exploration, as if the other man was preparing him for the very first time. Keisuke did not need much to get used to it, still Murakami only put one finger in first, ever so slightly moving it in circles, looking for the spot that gave him the most pleasure but only lightly grazing it when he did find it, adding a second finger only to move them even slower. When Keisuke tried to move his hips, Murakami immediately pulled his fingers out and held his thighs still, then brought his head down between his buttocks and started licking at his entrance, moving his tongue in circles and occasionally licking down to the sweet spot between his sac and his twitching hole.

Keisuke whimpered and called out his master’s name, his legs trembling and his desire leaking from the tip of his length. Whenever his master pushed his fingers in again, he tried to move his hips, but that only prompted the man to pull them out and tease him with his tongue. Finally, after the fourth attempt Keisuke realized there would be no end to it until he kept still, even if the slow movements of Murakami’s fingers were maddening and he was more than ready for more.

“Why won’t you hold me already?” Keisuke cried at some point, his tone whiny and desperate.

“I will hold you when I want to do so. Now, stay still,” Murakami responded, and rather than hurrying up he took his arousal in his hand and started to lick it all over, from the tip to his swollen sac, never taking it into his mouth.

Keisuke did not dare to move his hips out of fear that his master would stop, now that he was at least giving some relief to his poor ignored length. It was so slow and frustrating that it was almost more of a torture, but every nerve of his body begged for more, and little by little he could feel his climax approach, tensing his body and making him clench around Murakami’s fingers as the waves of pleasure coursed through him. He was panting and moaning and clenching his fists, pressing his face against the tatami as the sweat dripped down his flushed skin, as he quivered and finally arched up with a strangled cry, pleasure rushing through him and blanking his mind for a moment.

Murakami kept on fingering him and lapping at his spent arousal like a cat, even when Keisuke’s body collapsed and he tried to move away, the touch feeling so intense it was almost painful. His master, however, did not give him any respite. Instead, he made him turn around and climbed over him until his crotch was above Keisuke’s face, his own length still hard with unspent desire. He made him lift his legs and fold them against his body, holding him in an embarrassing pose, thighs spread apart and buttocks in the air.

Keisuke’s entire length was suddenly taken into his master’s warm mouth, and he cried and struggled, but the man didn’t relent. It was overwhelming, it felt as if his nerves were on fire, but the man didn’t care and kept on sucking and licking until Keisuke’s arousal swelled and filled his mouth, hitting the back of his throat.

Keisuke then tried to reciprocate, something that Murakami allowed. They both pleasured each other, tasting each other’s desire, using their experience to welcome it fully, to bring each other to their climax. Murakami was close, Keisuke could tell, but before he could release he pulled out and let go of him, making him turn and lay on his stomach, this time without making him lift his hips.

He penetrated him slowly, as if he was savoring the feel of his tight passage on every single centimeter of his length. He held him down with his body and rocked him against the tatami, making the underside of his body rub against the rough surface, particularly his nipples and his arousal. It was not painful because it was slow, but it was still harsh on his sensitive skin. Still, Keisuke begged for more, whimpering and groaning when his master kept going at a leisurely pace for what felt like an eternity.

“You can’t be satisfied with this,” he complained.

“I am enjoying myself immensely,” Murakami argued, chuckling at his impatience. “This connection, this feeling of being one, I could never get tired. I wish it could last forever.”

Keisuke tried to put up with it, until he could no longer stand it.

“Let me do it, please,” he begged him. “I need more, please, I will go insane!”

“If you say so,” Murakami conceded, pulling out and handing the jar of oil to him, laying down on his back in front of him.

Keisuke forced himself not to rush, not wanting to hurt his master. It was not often that he was allowed to take him. It was not supposed to be done. However, Murakami wanted them to share their pleasure equally. He wanted Keisuke to know how to hold someone as well as how to be held, so he had taught him with his own body.

His master was tight and warm, his body opposing the insertion at first, but soon enough he relaxed enough for Keisuke to move his fingers. He prepared him with care and patience, even if his own body was almost vibrating with need. Finally, it was Murakami that grasped on his wrist and pushed his hand away.

“I am ready,” he told him, and that was all that Keisuke needed. He sunk in him too fast, but Murakami laughed it off and kissed him, briefly whispering “patience” against his lips.

After the initial build-up, the young swordsman made love to him with an animalistic rush, shaking his hips in a frenzy and pushing his legs against his chest, sinking in as deep as he could. Murakami moaned too, wrapping his legs around Keisuke’s hips and calling out for him.

“Kei, Kei,” he called him. “Ah, my little Kei… will you come for me? You don’t have to hold back, I want to see it.”

Keisuke wanted to wait for them to come together, after all he’d already released once, but it felt too good inside his master and he could never resist him. He peaked with a few last harsh thrusts and cried out loud, filling him up and pulling back, panting.

“That was very good,” Murakami told him, pulling him into a hug. His arousal pressed against Keisuke’s stomach, but he did not seem to mind. “You look so beautiful when you’re lost in pleasure.”

“But you did not come,” Keisuke told him, bringing his hand down to help, but once again he was stopped.

“I have no rush. It is still early.” He smirked. “I will show you the power of patience.”

For a moment, Keisuke felt a chill run down his spine. But he would not show his master that he was intimidated. So he smirked as well. “I too wish to continue.”

“You will cry for mercy,” Murakami insisted, with a confidence that irked Keisuke.

He would show him he was not to be underestimated.

Keisuke would have wanted to say, in the end it was a mutual defeat.

To his credit, he had lasted longer than Murakami expected, by the man’s own admission.

However, his master had not lied when he said that he had no rush. And to think that he had been tired from the long travel…

The third time Keisuke came, he was still fine and eager to go again – though not right away, as Murakami mercilessly did, only _then_ picking up his pace and rocking his body with every thrust, hitting that spot inside him that had him seeing stars.

By the fifth time, he was starting to feel sore, but he still spread his legs for his master and welcomed his fingers, grasping on his hair and shaking his hips as the man took him in his mouth again.

By the ninth time, he had lost any sense of time and he could hardly speak a full sentence, but when Murakami made him sit in his lap and guided him on his length he still rode him and clung to him, chasing his own pleasure.

At the twelfth – or so he guessed as they all were starting to fuse together and he was not given a moment to recover – he was almost sobbing as Murakami took his oversensitive cock in his mouth again after he’d just released, whining and insisting that he could not possibly come again, but even if his desire was spent and there was nothing left to come out, his master somehow managed to coax a near-painful orgasm out of him.

He did not know which one it was because he’d lost count, but he knew that he eventually begged him to stop with tears streaming down his face, and his _terrible_ , ruthless, inhuman _beast_ of a master told him he’d be merciful and let him rest… after he was finished, since he was halfway done himself and Keisuke’s body just felt too good, so he couldn’t resist thrusting himself until he finally released inside of him. So, Keisuke had to put up with it even if every touch seemed to reverberate through his whole body and every nerve felt like it was on fire, and every time that spot inside of him was brushed he convulsed and his mind blanked.

When Murakami pulled out of him, even that made him whine, and he could not speak, only letting out soft cries when the man tried to touch him and comfort him. His master looked genuinely concerned, fussing over him and carrying him to his futon, the softer fabric feeling so much gentler on his oversensitive skin that Keisuke almost cried in relief.

He did not know when he fell asleep, but he remembered Murakami watching over him. When he woke up again the sun was high in the sky and his master carried him to a small private bath, apologizing to him for getting carried away.

“A master with no discipline is like a koto with no strings,” Keisuke scolded him, but he was not mad at him. He did not often see that passionate, impulsive side of his master. It reminded him of their first meeting, when the man had nearly killed another swordsman in a duel after they both tried to claim him as their own pupil and neither wanted to step down. The intensity of his desire, it was almost frightening at times, but Keisuke was not afraid of him. His master could be ruthless, even a little selfish, but he was kind and patient too.

“I will forgive you, if you let me hold you tonight,” Keisuke then told him with a mischievous smirk.

Murakami had sighed.

“And here I was concerned for you… what a foolish old man.”

They both laughed, and Keisuke rested his head against his chest. He knew he would have to give up on him, someday, but he was not ready yet. And, from what he saw, neither was his master.


	11. Day #11 - Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This eleventh story contains: Consensual Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, BDSM, D/s relationship, Age Difference, Aftercare, Figging, Spanking/Flogging/Ass Smacking in General, Lime, This one is really more focused on the aftercare than the sex so it's a bit softer than the usual
> 
> The pairing is: M/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "Aftercare"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I forgot to add the note to this chapter!
> 
> This story can be read as one-shot but is connected to my story [Rope Burns and Heartache](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380105)
> 
> The character of "Maverick" (Micheal) was actually created by [MarielleThorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarielleThorn/pseuds/MarielleThorn), from a RP we used to have.

It had been a good scene. Long, intense and somewhat strenuous due to how fucking stubborn the other guy had been – as always.

This hadn’t been like the first times, when Vincent only gave him a small taste to test the waters and see if this was for him or not. The younger man had insisted on finally having a "real scene", one where he got more than a light spanking and some teasing. In fact, he’d said that it was either that or he’d go to someone else who was "actually serious" about playing. Never mind the fact that if Vincent was so cautious it was _because_ he was serious, because this sub was a complete beginner and the way he’d been first introduced to BDSM had been… rough, to say the least.

So, Vincent had given him a "real scene". He’d tied him up – with actual ropes, no less – and blindfolded him. He’d used toys on him to get him hot and bothered, he’d taken out his leather flogger and crop, and he’d introduced him to a little fun practice called "figging".

He’d enjoyed watching his attitude change as the peeled ginger root he’d inserted in his ass just tingled at first, before it started stinging, and before he knew it his ass was on fire and, to add insult to injury, every time it was hit – first with the flogger, then with the crop – he’d tense up and clamp his muscles around the root, so it only seemed to burn more.

Vincent hadn’t gagged him on purpose. Even if he could get on his nerves sometimes, it still was very amusing to hear him go from laughing it off as "the usual tame shit" and calling him lame, teasing and not taking any of it seriously, to insulting and provoking him, then to whining and complaining, then to insulting him again but a tinge of desperation to his voice, until finally the combination of the pain and the way Vincent kept edging him without letting him cum managed to break him and make him beg for mercy.

Vincent hadn’t even fucked him. He never did, at least not so far. When asked about it, he told the guy he didn’t earn it yet, something which royally pissed his new casual fling- _slash_ -sub in training- _slash_ -pain in the ass. It wasn’t that he never planned to fuck him, but he was taking things slow. He was _savoring_ him. Plus, he wanted to show him that he didn’t need to fuck him to dominate him and put him in his place. Hell, he wasn’t opposed to being fucked from time to time as long as he was the one in control, but that was a privilege he wouldn’t grant so easily, especially not for a casual partner.

By the time they were done with the scene the other guy was, well, a mess. He was drenched in sweat, his ass and thighs were covered in red welts, his face was flushed, he was still drooling and his hair was sticky with both his own cum – after Vincent had wiped his hand on him – and Vincent’s.

Vincent worked fast to untie his knots and free the younger man from the beautiful red ropes he’d prepared for the occasion, unable to hold back a smirk as he saw the marks they left on his skin. He wanted to trace them with his fingers, but he didn’t. Instead, he crouched down on the carpet and undid the clasp that kept the blindfold tied behind the head of the sub, slowly pulling it off and putting it aside, before lifting the guy’s head and tilting it to the side to look at him in the eyes. Yeah, that hadn’t been like the first times. He still had a dazed look on his face and his pupils were dilated.

“Maverick?”

Vincent patiently waited for him to come back to his senses. He idly thought that he wished he knew the guy’s actual name as that might have helped him get through to him, but he’d been the one to encourage him to have an alias and eventually to nickname him "Maverick" when the idiot hadn’t taken him seriously and initially asked him to call him “Micky, like Mickey Mouse”, only to regret it as soon as Vincent made him realize how ridiculous that sounded – especially during a scene. He’d picked the nickname from a classic movie that was probably "too old" for Maverick to have seen, which featured a reckless daredevil who tended not to take things as seriously as he should have.

Vincent first realized the guy was coming out of subspace when he saw him tremble. He went to pick a blanket and wrapped it around his body, then took a tissue to wipe the semen off from his hair before it started to clump up. It was then that he heard him groan and mutter something about being thirsty.

“Hey there. Back to Earth, I see,” Vincent told him with a smile. He tried to lift his head again, only for Maverick to slap his hand away. Even so, he’d managed to see tears sliding down his cheeks. He tried to pat his hair but the other man growled like a dog.

“Stop fucking touching me.”

 _Ah,_ Vincent thought. _The grouchy type_. Of course the brat managed to be the most insufferable kind of sub even in that situation. Nevertheless, Vincent was not offended. It wasn’t the first time he saw that.

“I’ll get you some water and a snack. I’ve got them right here. Do you prefer fruit or a snack bar?”

“A beer.”

Vincent had to hold back from snorting loudly.

“I’m not giving you a beer before we’re done with aftercare.”

“The fuck’s that?”

_For fuck’s-_

He shouldn’t have been surprised. The more he interacted with him the clearer it was that the brat knew fuck-all about BDSM, or at least not much beyond what he might have seen in movies. The one saving grace about him hating books was that at least that meant he hadn’t read any of that Fifty Shades bullshit. Still, _trying to find a Dom and_ _not knowing anything about aftercare, really?_

 _Didn’t you fucking google? And you call_ me _old?_

Of course, Vincent didn’t voice his thoughts. In fact, he did his best not to let them show through his expression either. Instead, he placed a bottle with a straw and a plate with a banana and a still-wrapped snack bar on the floor in front of Maverick.

“There you go, do you need-”

“ _Don’t_ help me,” the man growled again, slowly sitting up and glaring at him from under his mid-length dyed hair as if to dare him to touch him. His eyes were red and he quickly wiped his face with the back of his hands, sniffling. “Fuck.”

“Crying is normal, your brain produces hormones under stress. A full-fledged scene can put quite a burden on your mind and body, so-”

“I’m not crying,” Maverick grumbled, picking up the bottle and eagerly sipping on the water, then snatching the snack bar as if he feared Vincent would take it from him, ripping it open with his teeth and wolfing it down in a second.

Vincent waited in silence, sitting down in front of him without touching him or saying anything more, until the other man lifted his gaze again and, this time, he did not look like he was ready to bite his hand off.

“Why am I so…”

He seemed to struggle to find the right word, frowning and remaining in silence for a few more moments.

“Feels like I just woke up after like two hours of sleep,” he finally concluded.

_Maybe if you just let me fucking talk you would know why. Brat._

“That’s what I was trying to explain. Your body produces a lot of hormones when it’s subjected to prolonged pain or effort. Do you know of runner’s high? Something like that, it’s called "subspace". Feels amazing, apparently, but the drop can be quite brutal. Especially the first times,” Vincent told him in his calmest tone, while trying not to sound too patronizing. “That’s why you need aftercare. Which is what we call when a Dom takes care of their sub and makes sure they are alright.”

Maverick scoffed.

“Well I’m alright and you don’t need to "take care" of me, thank you very much Mr. Dom,” he replied with a lopsided grin. “Just give me that beer I’ve asked you or… whatever, fuck it.”

_Ah, the brat truly returns. Can’t be too upset if we’re back to "Mr. Dom"._

Even so, Vincent could see he was still trembling slightly. His hands were fidgeting with the plastic wrapper he was still holding on.

_"I’m alright" my ass._

He moved in closer, wrapping his arm around Maverick and soothingly stroking his back. The man stiffened, then leaned into the touch, almost letting his head rest against Vincent’s chest. Suddenly, he jolted away and pushed him off.

“I don’t need you to fucking take care of me, I’m fine! I’m not some… some wimp who needs to be comforted just ‘cause you spanked my ass or some shit,” the man protested, turning bright red and glaring down at the ground.

Vincent hesitated, biting his lip. On one hand he always wanted to believe and respect the wishes of a sub, especially one he was not familiar with, on the other hand… he remembered Scott. He remembered how he started to refuse aftercare when they became more distant... but that was not the point. The point was, it had been a bad sign but even so it was still different.

For one, Scott was a seasoned submissive and had been involved with kink for almost as long as Vincent himself had, so he knew how to deal with the aftermath of a scene on his own and knew what he was doing when he asked him to leave him alone. Secondly and most importantly, everything about the body language from the guy in front of him was different. He was still shaking, he was clearly not fine and he seemed to be mostly upset about that rather than with Vincent per se, if his choice of words was of any indication.

That was why, instead of backing off and leaving him be, Vincent moved in closer again but didn’t try to touch him again. Not yet.

“I don’t think you’re a wimp. I think you’re a huge pain in the ass, yes, but not a wimp,” he told him with a small laugh.

Maverick turned to look at Vincent just to roll his eyes at him, but he didn’t push him off again.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Look, I’ve seen guys bigger than you and tougher than you bawl their eyes out after a scene and curl up in their Master’s lap like kittens. I’ve played with guys who could have kicked my ass and still needed me to take care of them when we were done. It’s normal. All submissives need aftercare.” Not entirely accurate, but he was going to go over the finer details and give him a proper BDSM 101 some other time maybe when the guy didn’t desperately need comforting. “Hell, Doms need aftercare too. Let’s say you don’t need it, I do. So let me do it for myself, just for a while. Then I’ll get you that beer. How does that sound?”

Maverick looked away again, then let out a big dramatic sigh.

“Knock yourself out.”

Vincent had to hold back from smirking.

He wrapped his arm around the other man again, pulling him close and stroking his back, adjusting the blanket so that it covered him better. The guy reluctantly moved towards him and rested his head against his chest, allowing Vincent to stroke his hair. It felt surprisingly soft, considering how it was obviously heavily chemically treated to have that silver-violet color. Vincent heard a soft moan leave his lips, and when he spoke again he still sounded grumpy, but not quite as hostile as before.

“I thought the whole point of this kink thing was not to bother with cuddling and all that romantic bullshit.”

 _Why do you call it bullshit?_ was what Vincent wanted to ask.

“It’s not like we don’t fall in love and have relationships like normal people. A lot of people like to fool around and are just in it for the fun, but a lot are also looking for something more. It’s a different form of love, it doesn’t look like what you see in movies or read in a romance book, but it’s still love. One can enjoy being spanked and called a filthy cumrag as well as cuddling in bed and having pancakes together, it’s not mutually exclusive,” was what he said instead.

He expected Maverick to scoff at this, to say that it was "lame" and "boring" and to make some other kind of assumption about him or other kinksters that he would have to correct. Instead, the other man stayed in silence for a while and slowly relaxed in his arms.

“I’m not looking to start anything,” Maverick finally said after a while. His hostility was gone, he was simply stating it as a matter-of-fact thing. “I’m doing this because it seems fun. What you did to me before, it… wasn’t half bad.”

Vincent could tell he was reluctant to admit that, and that he probably actually meant to say something more flattering but was too proud and too stubborn to do so. It still made him grin. Thankfully Maverick wasn’t looking at him, or no doubt he’d be telling him how it wasn’t anything special and it wasn’t like he came screaming in pleasure because it was _that_ good so he shouldn’t think he was impressed or anything.

“Alright, it _was_ fun.” Maverick then added with even more reluctance, still making sure not to look at him. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again. The whole thing with me tied up and the spanking, at least. _Maybe_ not the ginger. Not sure I’m a fan. I’d rather you actually fucked me though I’m starting to think maybe you can’t last and that’s why you don’t want to. Maybe you’re a quick shooter and that’s why you’re doing the whole high and mighty Dom act.”

Vincent shook his head at the blatant provocation, still grinning to himself. As if he was going to let himself be played so easily and by such a brat. He was glad to hear that he was sounding a lot more grounded and comfortable. He still continued to hold and comfort him, just to be sure… and well, yes, also because it was nice to hold someone again after over a fucking month and he hadn’t lied when he said he too needed some aftercare. He too felt comforted by the other man’s warmth and closeness and by the knowledge that he had enjoyed himself after all and any grumpiness had simply been as a result of the initial shock rather than genuine resentment.

“So yeah, this whole cuddling and lovey-dovey shit, I’m not into it. I don’t want a relationship. You don’t own me, I’m just practicing and I like sex so, that’s all. That’s why I’m here.”

Had the circumstances been different, Vincent would have felt hurt by those words. Shockingly enough, for once he found himself in agreement with the brat. Well, more or less.

“I’m not looking for anything serious either. I’ve tried and I’ve come to the conclusion it’s not meant to be.”

Sad but probably true. Scott had been his one last attempt. He felt too old. He knew he wasn’t _that_ old but he _felt_ old. He was tired of investing so much time and energy knowing it wouldn’t be returned. Tired of having subs throw themselves at his feet as long as he played the part in the bedroom, only to then get bored when they really got to know him.

All of them had loved Blake, the big bad Dom who could tie them up in a perfect shibari pose and make them beg for him to hurt them until they cried and came so hard their head went blank. Yet none of them had cared for Vincent, too boring, too square, too stiff and fastidious. At that point, Vincent felt like he’d tried his hand with every damn sub in his city who’d been around the community enough to have a clear idea of what they wanted. He certainly wasn’t going to try his luck with a fresh new guy who barely even knew what his kinks were, let alone if he even liked long-term submission. The mere idea was exhausting.

Not to mention, in Maverick’s case there was also the matter of their age difference. He normally wouldn’t even be fooling around with someone under thirty and that guy was mid- _maybe_ -late twenties at _most_ judging from his looks, but Vincent would have guessed early twenties judging from how fucking immature he was. He knew he was in his twenties because, besides not looking _that_ young, the guy worked and had his own place. Which gave him enough peace of mind not to feel like he was robbing the cradle but still… ten years or so younger than him, with no real experience in the lifestyle, with _that_ fucking attitude and his constant dismissal of things like safewords and aftercare and discussing limits and pretty much anything about playing safely… yeah, there was no way that guy was long-term sub material. He was showing him the ropes, they were having fun, he was making sure he learned not to end up doing anything stupid or unsafe with the wrong guy, meanwhile he got to play with a cute guy who _could_ be quite adorable at times, in his own way. Harmless, fun, and most of all _temporary_. No risk of getting attached and pine after him for a whole month like he did with Scott.

“You’re my type and I like to play with the new ones, but I wouldn’t get serious with a newbie,” he concluded, more than happy to assure him he would have no emotional investment in that whole thing. “Especially not a brat like you,” he added with a small chuckle.

Maverick, as usual, bristled and practically hissed like a cat at the use of that word. He wriggled out of his embrace and got up.

“I told you not to fucking call me a brat,” he snapped. “Know what I’m done with this whole afterplay shit or whatever. I’m taking a shower.” He started walking towards the bathroom.

“Don’t take too long, I’ll be counting” Vincent replied, grinning like the Cheshire cat as he not-so-subtly reminded him of the very first time he brought him home. The time he’d checked with his phone exactly how long he’d taken to shower, then later proceeded to tease him and deny him his orgasm for exactly the same time.

Maverick turned red, glaring daggers at him before slamming the bathroom door. Vincent only laughed.

_An immature brat indeed._


	12. Day #12 - Dubcon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This twelfth story contains: Dubcon, Unenthusiastic Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drunk Sex, Unsafe Sex, this is so sad alexa play despacito
> 
> The pairing is: M/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "Dubcon"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this is more of a sad slice of life trans mlm sex experience than porn

The first thing Sören was aware of was the splitting headache and the absolute rancid taste in his mouth.

_Ugh, kill me now._

The second thing was the hand between his legs, fingers shoved knuckles-deep in his cunt. Warm, humid breath against his ear, and what was most-definitely an erection pressed against his thigh.

_Good fucking morning to you too, asshole._

He opened his eyes and groaned, trying to connect the other’s face to a name. Something French… Laurent? Jérôme? Eugène? He vaguely remembered talking to him about something. A friend of a friend of a friend, like most people at that party. He was already at his fourth drink when the guy chatted him up. The elaborate skull makeup on his face was mostly smeared and wiped off, probably on one of the pillows. He wasn’t _ugly_ , but Sören couldn’t help but think he’d looked hotter with the makeup on.

Maybe it was also the fact that Sören was currently painfully sober. And the bed hair, and the attitude, and the tongue shoved in _his fucking ear, God why?_

“Ugh, don’t,” he complained, turning his head to the side. Another finger slid inside him. He was wet. Not because he was aroused, not mentally at least. Honestly, he just wanted to take a shower and drink a gallon of water, but the guy – _Fabien, that was it_ – was humping his leg like a horndog and probably would bitch and whine if he blew him off and it would be such a pain and Sören was in no fucking mood to argue, not when his head felt like a tiny gnome was banging pots and stomping all over his brains. It would probably be easier and faster to just go along with it, let him get it out of his system and then leave.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Fabien grunted against his neck, slobbering all over it as he licked and kissed it. Sören closed his eyes and let his arm rest against them. The light coming from the window was annoying and borderline painful. The rough fingering wasn’t, it actually didn’t feel half-bad, he’d probably liked it enough the previous night. It was too bad he was in no mood to fuck but he could play the part.

When Fabien tried to kiss him Sören turned his head away, the smell of his breath was already bad enough. Who the fuck thought that kissing someone after having just woken up was a good idea? This Fabien guy, Sören got the feeling he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box. He certainly hadn’t charmed his way into his pants thanks to his wits.

Soon enough one of his hands was grabbed and he felt the other’s hard length against his fingers. He wrapped them around it, stroking it, and was rewarded with a loud moan coming from Fabien’s lips. The more fired up he was the faster he’d be, right? Normally that wouldn’t be a good thing but Sören was under no illusion this was going to be all that enjoyable for him either way. Maybe if he’d had the time to get cleaned up and have breakfast, but he doubted his current partner would have the patience for it.

When he felt teeth against one of his nipples he moaned, moving his arm away from his face to grasp on Fabien’s hair. The fingers inside of him curled up and occasionally managed to hit the right spot, which in combination with the way the other guy was sucking and licking and biting on his nipples wasn’t half bad. He didn’t mind the pain. It wasn’t harsh enough to put him off, in fact it was pretty good.

_If my head wasn’t fucking killing me… ugh, why did I drink so much again?_

He shouldn’t have come. He should have made up some excuse but then again Lucas had insisted and he hadn’t wanted to be an ass and make him go alone since it was his brother’s Halloween party so he couldn’t exactly not go, though given that his so-called friend had pretty much disappeared halfway through the party maybe next time he wouldn’t be so quick to show his solidarity.

_That’s what you get for trying to be a decent friend, I guess._

He was starting to get pissed off thinking about it, which didn’t exactly help him get into the mood. He was starting to wonder if maybe he could get up with the excuse to go for a piss and then sneak out when Fabien climbed over him and pushed his legs open, pulling his hand away from his cock and pressing it against his cunt.

_Wait a fucking second-_

“Hey, you’re not going in raw.”

He covered his hole with his hand, and Fabien grunted.

“It’s fine, I’m clean.”

“It’s not, go get a condom.”

“I don’t have one.”

Sören rolled his eyes.

_Of fucking course you don’t._

“Come on, it was fine last night,” Fabien insisted, and Sören cringed.

_Yeah, because I was fucking drunk you asshole._

He could have insisted, he probably _should_ have, but the way Fabien kept whining was only adding to his headache and Sören’s patience was already wearing thin. The bastard had already fucked him raw once so the damage was done, and he just wanted to be done with it and get on with his day already.

“Fine, fucking fine, whatever. Just pull out. I’ll break your face if you don’t.”

_Did I ask him to pull out last night?_

He couldn’t remember. Should he ask? Did he _really_ want to know if he didn’t? No, no he fucking didn’t. He was already feeling nauseous just thinking about it.

_Great. Fucking great. I’m never drinking again._

Fabien barely waited for him to move his hand before shoving his cock inside. It wasn’t that big but Sören didn’t care for the way he started to hammer on his cervix as soon as he started thrusting.

“Ow. Slow down.”

“Sorry.”

_Yeah that’s not much better_ , Sören bit his lip to hold back from replying once Fabien changed his pace. It was the angle that was the problem more so than the speed, but really was it worth trying to make him get it right when it was easier to just bear with it and wait for him to be done?

“Ooh, fuck, it’s good,” Fabien grunted against his ear, before licking it as well as the whole side of his face. Sören vaguely wondered about the state of his own makeup. His eyeliner had probably melted by that point, he probably had a serious case of raccoon eyes. It couldn’t be too bad if that guy was so eager to bone him, but then again, morning wood.

Sören tried to ignore the way Fabien was panting against his face and digging his fingers into his hips. He moaned with every thrust, more out of discomfort than anything. Did he really have to pound his cervix like a fucking jackhammer? He already knew he was going to get cramps. He occasionally could feel his cock brush the right spot but it was too sporadic to do anything but frustrate him. He would have played with his own cock to get himself off, but he couldn’t be bothered.

_I swear to God if Lucas already went home it’s the last time I go anywhere with him…_

His phone chimed a few times. Maybe it was him. He couldn’t quite ask Fabien to pass him his phone to check, could he? Not that the jackass seemed to care about the fact that he wasn’t into it, but still, that seemed a little too on the nose.

_Should I try to act like I’m enjoying it? Would he be done faster if I did? But most importantly… can I really be bothered to?_

Plus, there was something humiliating about the whole idea. As if he was some kind of prostitute, or a bored housewife trying to placate her husband. Disgusting.

_Yeah no, I don’t fucking think so._

By the time Fabien’s voice and pace changed and Sören could tell he was getting close, he’d had all the time to think about his appointments for that week as well as which chapters of his textbook he still had to study for his next exam and whether he could manage to squeeze in a visit at the clinic to check if he’d caught something from that encounter or if it would be better to do it the coming week since after all some STDs did not manifest until a certain time after transmission, or at least he thought he remembered something about that from the last time he had to check. He usually wasn’t dumb enough to do it raw… or so fucking drunk he couldn’t even remember whether it had been raw or not.

“Don’t you fucking dare come inside,” he growled, grasping on his neck and glaring at him to remind him about his threat.

“Y-yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it,” Fabien replied, panting, face flushed and sweat dripping from his hair. He would have been kind of hot looking like that, if not for his fucking attitude. There was a fine line between assertive and pushy jackass and the bastard hadn’t crossed it as much as stomped all over it and pissed on it to show his dominance. Sören was honestly surprised his cunt hadn’t dried up given how unappealing that whole shit was to him, then again it was probably some kind of natural defense mechanism to prevent his hole from getting wrecked.

Thankfully, Fabien wasn’t that much of a jackass to go back on his word and cum inside just because he had the chance. When he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled out and furiously jacked off above him, panting loudly and letting out a choked moan as he sprayed his cum all over Sören’s belly. It felt warm and slimy, much like the guy’s mouth when he tried to kiss him again and ended up tonguing his ear when Sören briskly turned his head.

_Ugh, seriously, what’s his fucking deal with that?! At least finally it’s over…_

“Get off,” Sören groaned, pushing him away when the guy laid next to him and tried to pull him into a hug. Yeah, no, he wasn’t in the mood for any sort of cuddling, period, much less with _his_ sorry ass. His cunt was still throbbing and _not_ in a good way. “I need to piss.”

He slowly got up from the bed, closing his eyes and pressing both hands against his face, feeling a violent wave of nausea at the sudden movement. Thankfully it passed after a few moments.

“See you around?” Fabien asked, sounding all too hopeful. “You know Sven, right? I’ll be at his place next Sunday-”

“Yeah no, I… have to study. All week. Not gonna go out till I’m done with my next exam.”

“Oh, so-”

“I’ll call you.”

_In your fucking dreams_ , Sören thought, collecting his clothes from the floor and his phone from the nightstand before finally heading to the bathroom, closing the door before Fabien could get the idea to follow him.

At least now he could shower and get his bearings. He’d be much better at dealing with that bitch after a good long shower.

_Note to self: this is why I shouldn’t fucking drink._


	13. Day #13 - Breeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This thirteenth story contains: Rape/Non-con, Breeding, Aphrodisiacs, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Ass to Mouth, Multiple Orgasms, Wolf Pack, Fantasy setting, Threesome - M/M/M, Sexual Slavery
> 
> The pairing is: M/M
> 
> All characters in this story are 18+
> 
> The prompt I chose to use was "breeding"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters in this story also appear in my series [The Touch of Wolfsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647925), which is based on a roleplay with [ForgottenLoveSong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenLoveSong/pseuds/ForgottenLoveSong)

Eilith knew that it was useless to fight, especially against the alpha of the pack.

“I’m breeding the bitch today,” he’d announced, grasping on his arm and pulling him towards his furs. “You can fuck the elf later, but don’t come inside him.”

The elven prince was terrified of course, but there was nothing he could do. His eyes met Taranis’s for a second, a silent plead for help, but the omega wolf looked away and his heart clenched. He was alone. No one would help him. Not Theadus, not his father, and certainly not one of those demons.

He did not struggle as he was dragged and tossed on the clean furs. At least it was better than the rocks, he told himself. Better than to be taken on the harsh floor or walls of the cave. It was a meager consolation but he would take all he could get, given the circumstances.

Wotan did not wait and did not try to get him used to it. Eilith wasn’t sure of whether it was worse when he did or when he didn’t. It hurt him either way but it hurt worse when he was not prepared. On the other hand, he hated how his body would react whenever the wolf demon tried to get him to feel pleasure.

Wotan’s cock ripped him open, the slight lubrication he’d applied to it was not enough to prevent him from bleeding. Eilith screamed in pain and grasped on the furs, sobbing and wailing while Wotan slammed his hips against his and dug his claws into his sides, growling and panting against his ear. The prince shivered and yelped when it was licked and the tip was nibbled on, but the pain was too great for him to react to those attentions.

“Beg me to cum inside you,” Wotan ordered him, one of his hands moving to his soft cock to stroke it and try to get it hard. “Beg, and I’ll be merciful.” His hand was too harsh and the pain and fear too great for Eilith to grow aroused, which was the only saving grace.

The elven prince did not want to ask for such a thing, he did not want to debase and humiliate himself in such a way, but he was terrified of what Wotan would do if he did not listen. When he eventually caved in, it was not because he trusted his claim but because he feared the consequences of his disobedience.

“P-please, i… inside,” he whispered, hating himself for every word. “I-I want it… inside.”

“I can’t hear you, whore,” Wotan taunted him, laughing and grazing his cock with one of his claws. “Louder, bitch, let my brothers hear how much you want it.”

Eilith’s face burned, he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against the furs, sobbing so hard that his whole body was shaking. “I…I please…” he cried out, his voice choked by his tears. He sniffled and forced himself to speak out loud. “I w-want it i...inside, please, Wotan… please!”

The alpha let out a rumbling laugh and bit down on his shoulder, shaking his hips faster and faster, growling and panting as he got close and then finally came inside him with a low, satisfied moan. Eilith was whimpering from the pain and humiliation, he could feel the blood trickling down his shoulder and the way Wotan licked it afterwards made him feel sick.

“Your body is made to be fucked, elf” the wolf told him, his hands roaming all over him, touching him more for his own pleasure than to make Eilith feel good. The elf could already feel him grow hard again inside him, he hadn’t even pulled out yet, and immediately he knew that he would go again.

“N-no, please,” he begged, despite knowing it was useless. “Please, Wotan…”

His words died in his throat when the demon snarled and growled, one hand moving to grasp on his neck and squeeze in a silent threat. Eilith grasped on his arm and struggled, terrified, but the wolf clenched his hand until he could barely breathe and did not relent until he stopped trying to fight him, amused by his choked cries and by the smell of fear that emanated from him.

“Navilis, bring me one of those potions,” Wotan said to his beautiful companion, and the androgynous white-haired wolf smirked and did as he was asked, not needing any clarification as to which ones his alpha meant.

“Open your mouth, Eilith,” Navilis told him in a faux gentle tone, stroking his cheek and pressing the open vial against his chapped lips. Eilith did not trust it, but the hand on his throat and the threatening growl from the alpha were motivation enough to convince him. Reluctantly, he parted his lips and swallowed the slightly thick fluid that was poured in his mouth. It was like warm honey but not as sweet, it had a hint of spice to it as well.

Eilith didn’t need to ask what it was, he recognized the taste and the effect it had on his body. He could only stay still and whimper quietly as the warmth spread through him from inside, his skin tingling and every touch against it feeling much more intense. When Wotan’s hand went back to his cock, he couldn’t hold back from gasping and moaning softly, his length responding to the touch and growing hard in a matter of seconds.

“N-no,” he cried out again, panting as Wotan licked some of his tears off of his cheek. The warm, wet feeling of his tongue went straight to his cock and made it grow fully hard in the wolf’s hand, and when his ear was licked again he moaned and flushed, his ass clenching around Wotan’s cock and bringing a warm shiver up his spine. The pain from the penetration was waning and instead his insides ached for more, in fact he had to hold back from moving his hips and trying to take it deeper.

“Since you’ve done as I asked, I’ll let you enjoy it this time,” Wotan told him as if he was being generous, rubbing his thumb against the tip of Eilith’s cock until precum started leaking from the slit, spreading it all over his glans. “I’ll even let you cum.”

Eilith didn’t want it, of course, but his body was not listening. When Wotan started moving again, fucking him at a slower pace than before, Eilith moaned and he couldn’t help but shake his hips, as if asking for more.

“I’ll fuck you until you’re full and heavy with my cum,” Wotan promised, letting go of his throat and moving his hand down to caress his belly, nuzzling his neck and breathing against his ear. “I swear you’ll be carrying my pups, I’ll fuck you every day until you’re pregnant.”

The threat that normally would have brought nothing but horror made his body respond in odd ways that Eilith could not control. He could not know it, but his smell changed and called out to the wolf above him, as if to incite him. When the alpha came inside him again, his ass squeezed around his cock as if to milk him dry, and when he pulled out the elf whined softly, the sudden emptiness leaving his hole aching for more.

“What is it, bitch, haven’t had enough?” Wotan mocked him, shoving two fingers inside him and fingering him roughly, laughing when Eilith shuddered as his fingers found his prostate and rubbed against it. “I’ll fuck you again soon, but first…”

Wotan let go of him to approach Navilis, who had been touching himself and letting out sensual moans as he watched his alpha take the bitch. The androgynous wolf was more than happy to get on all fours and let his companion take him, and when Wotan grasped on Eilith’s hair and pulled him closer, forcing him to get on his knees in front of Navilis, he smirked as he realized his intent.

“Take his cock, prince,” Wotan ordered, using the appellative with sarcasm. He was not gentle with Navilis as he fucked him but he was passionate, kissing him and keeping one hand on Eilith’s hair to make sure he did not slack off. Navilis too brought one hand above his, intertwining their fingers together and moaning loudly in pleasure.

Eilith could not pull his head away even if he’d wanted to, and the aphrodisiac made him docile and much less opposed to the task than normal. He still choked when Wotan’s thrusts forced Navilis’s cock too far down his throat, but he did not shiver in disgust, and when Navilis finally came together with his lover he swallowed his cum without being asked first, the taste and smell only adding to his arousal. Both Wotan and Navilis were amused to see he was stroking himself, still frustrated and desperate for release.

“Missed my cock, hmm?” Wotan almost purred, pulling out of Navilis and sitting down in front of Eilith, grasping on his wrist to make him stop touching himself and bringing his hand on his own cock instead. “You’ll have to make me hard if you want it. You seemed to enjoy it earlier, come and get a taste.”

Eilith looked at him, his irises like blue rings around his wide pupils. His face was flushed and there was shame in there mixed in with desire, despite the potion a part of him still was aware that this was wrong and he shouldn’t want it, but it was too strong. When Wotan’s fingers slipped inside of him again he moaned and clamped down around them, eyes half closed and breathing heavily. He knew he shouldn’t want it but his body longed for cock and his mouth was watering at the thought of tasting more.

“This is a fitting look for our bitch,” Navilis remarked, wrapping his arms around Wotan and kissing his neck and shoulders, staring down at Eilith with a falsely sweet smile as he whispered to his companion, encouraging his cruelty. “This is how he should look all the time, bowing down to you and begging for your cock.”

Wotan let out a pleased growl at those words, moaning louder when Eilith finally took his cock in his mouth, enjoying the attention from both of his bitches. He would break the prince and make him bend to his will, whether with fear and pain or pleasure or both, he didn’t care. He have him rolling over like a dog, looking up at him with his big blue eyes and begging to be knocked up, pumping out pups for him until his body collapsed. He would destroy his mind and his soul too, until he was nothing but a brainless cum rag, and then he would toss him aside like worthless trash. And it was that thought more than Eilith’s clumsy tongue and his deliciously warm mouth that got him going, ready to give his bitch what he deserved.


End file.
